


Mary Potter and the Boy-Who-Lived

by LiinHaglund



Series: The Orphans Who Ruled The World [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boarding School, Bullying, Canon? What Canon?, Diagon Alley, Female Harry Potter, Fix-It of Sorts, Foster Care, Gen, Good Slytherins, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Harry Potter is Not a Horcrux, Hogwarts Express, Hogwarts First Year, Magic, Muggles, No Horcruxes, Paganism, Parselmouth Harry Potter, Pureblood Culture, Quidditch, Rule 63, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Slow Build, Slytherin Harry Potter, Suicide Attempt, Well-Meaning Dumbledore, Wizarding World, Worldbuilding, no dursleys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2018-08-19 02:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8185360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiinHaglund/pseuds/LiinHaglund
Summary: What if Harry Potter was a girl? What if Snape wasn't a git? What if the Sorting Hat really did put Harry in Slytherin? This is a Dursley-free, rule 63'd AU of the first book/film that frequently ignores everything canon.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a side project of mine, so updates will happen sporadically when I can't find an interest in my other WIPs.

“She hissed in class again, instead of speaking,” the teacher said sternly to Mary Potter's foster parents. “Surely there's some sort of medication available, or therapy. She's not mentally well, that child.”

Mary glared from where she sat not two feet away on a chair. There was nothing wrong with her ears, thank you very much. The spoken language, however, was problematic for her. She heard English and she thought she answered in English, but the others claimed she hissed and she wasn't able to always control the switch.

“Perhaps a special needs school would be better?” the primly dressed principal suggested politely.

“We're just her foster parents. We can't make a decision like that, we'll have to speak to her social worker.”

It was always like this. _We're just her foster parents, don't blame her freakishness on us._ Mary was pretty sure she _was_ a freak of some sort, considering how many homes she had been through. She could do things, she just had to wish hard enough and things would happen. Like she had superpowers. It was cool and one day they would all regret treating her like trash.

“Mary!”

She looked up and saw that her foster parents were ready to leave.

“Don't space out like that,” her foster father admonished. “You're not daft girl, pay attention.”

She had the best grades in her class despite starting later in the year, so no, she wasn't daft. Huffing, she rose and walked out with the couple.

They were due a visit from a social worker tomorrow regardless. She had been dubbed a problem child early on in life and she had been bounced around so many foster families she no longer bothered unpacking when she arrived at a new place. Her duffel bag containing her clothes was her wardrobe. It was just easier, things got lost when you had to pack in a rush. Or run away. Which she had done last year. The man they had placed her with had wanted to touch her in ways she didn't like, so she had used her superpowers to get him off and away. Then she had grabbed her things and ran off without caring that it was the middle of winter at the time.

She did things sometimes without really thinking them through. It was just one of her many unladylike qualities she was always criticized for.

The car ride home from her school was completed in tense silence. Perhaps just disappointed silence, as her foster parents were not too pleased with having to attend any school meetings at all.

At least summer had arrived. With that came the snakes and the long break away from school. They often came to her, the snakes. They were good companions, great pets, never needing much more from her than a few words here or there. She didn't need to feed them. Not that she could have, she wouldn't have been allowed a pet.

 

* * *

 

On a Wednesday on the last day of July when she turned eleven, Mary received a strange letter from a strange visitor who talked about a strange school. Of course, she knew she was a strange girl and she wasn't terribly surprised she was being shipped off to a boarding school. She was surprised the government would bother to pay for it, but then perhaps the government owned it.

It was one of her more forgettable birthdays otherwise. She had gotten a bland card and one whole pound from her foster parents and a dry cookie instead of a cake. There had been foster homes that had thrown her parties or at least baked her a cake, but she was done with having expectations. They just made things worse.

At least she wasn't forgotten.

Mrs Stone, the social worker accompanying the stranger from the school, seemed to like the idea of Mary being in one place until she was an adult – even though she would need a placement over the summers. A different one from where she lived now, because the old couple didn't like strange little girls like her who made the neighbors gossip.

“I expect you to behave, young lady,” Mrs Stone warned. She then left Mary and the man from the school alone to talk. The stranger, a man in a dark suit called Mr Snape, said he was a teacher. He didn't have the look of nice man, but she supposed perhaps he didn't like people in general. Or maybe just kids. Or maybe he didn't appreciate having to spend summer rounding up the new kids.

“Has anyone contacted you? Told you about your family?”

“No one,” Mary confirmed what he seemed to suspect. “I was left with a note stating my name and my birthday. No one has managed to find any of my relatives. Or what was wrong with them. They think something is wrong with my head and apparently that usually runs in families.”

He frowned a little before he swished a stick of wood around and colored sparkles fell from the ceiling. Mary tried to catch them, but they didn't last long enough. She focused on a sparkle and willed it not to fade. She managed to hold it in her hand. “You're a freak like me, then?”

“You're a _witch_ , not a freak, and so was your mother. You look a little like her,” Mr Snape said.

“Did you know her?” Mary asked, a little higher in spirit. The sparkle faded to nothing when she lost her focus.

“Yes. Your father could also do magic, but I can't say I was ever fond of him. Your mother was a dear friend of mine until I made some unfortunate life choices. I'm sorry you ended up with Muggles.”

“Muggles, sir?”

“It's a word we use to describe humans who lack magic.”

“Normal people?”

“If you will.”

Mary nodded, half convinced he was telling the truth and half convinced he was more nuts than anyone else she had ever met. “I take it whatever you told the social worker isn't true.”

“To an extent, it is,” the man said. “Hogwarts is a boarding school for special children, like you, but you will not be taught algebra or French. This letter details a few necessities which I will help you acquire. Don't worry about money, your parents left everything they owned to you.”

“Will it be enough?”

“More than enough, and not just for this year,” he assured her. “Even if it hadn't been, you would have been able to attend with a scholarship. I'm surprised you ended up in the Muggle world. We normally look after our own.”

Mary shrugged. She didn't know if it was true, any of it, but she had found most people to be selfish. Children especially, but adults weren't much better. They just hid it more. If it had been easier to dump her here then that would make sense.

The social worker appeared again and handed a clipboard to Mr Snape, who skimmed the papers.

“Mrs Stone? Are you signing the child over to me?” he asked as if the social worker had lost her mind.

“She'll need to leave this family, Mr Snape. The couple seems quite hostile and I've already removed her from too many homes. We have no place left for the girl right now. I spoke to the Headmaster of this school you represent over the phone, he seemed to think it would be a good idea. He also vouched for you, though be advised that someone will visit your home.”

“Fine,” he said and Mary could tell it was not something that overly bothered him. She wondered why, and hoped he wouldn't want to touch her in odd places. Perhaps he was just thinking he could have his wife deal with her.

“Thank you.”

Mary smiled politely. She wasn't about to get too excited – she did not after all know this man and she went through families and schools rather quickly. It would be stupid to become hopeful. Still, perhaps being strange wasn't so bad if there were more people like her, with superpowers. Maybe it was like in the X-men comics where mutants went to a special school.

 

* * *

 

When she arrived with Mrs Stone and her meager possessions a few days later she was greeted by Mr Snape and an old lady who called herself Mrs Snape, but she looked too old to be his wife so she was probably his mother.

The house was a moderate size and located in the outskirt of a small village. The lawn was full of bushes and the grass was a bit too tall, but it didn't look abandoned – just like neither of the inhabitants cared much for garden work. Snakes liked yards like that.

The inside was old and lived in, but tidy. Mrs Snape served them all tea and offered them cookies and sandwiches. Mr Snape and Mrs Stone were busy with paperwork and the mandatory talk the social worker gave all her foster parents. She knew already that it was a done deal, the only thing that would have made Mrs Stone balk would have been a drug den. This was too normal for the social worker to refuse.

Mary sipped her hot tea and hastily ate her sandwich. Mrs Stone, who had no children of her own, hadn't fed her that day and they had spent most of it on a train. There was always something of a difference with people who had kids and those who didn't. Mothers always plied you with food while those who had no children seemed to assume children would scream if they needed something.

“You do look a bit like the Evans girl,” Mrs Snape commented. She sounded old too.

“Who?”

“Your late mother. Severus used to fancy her, he did.” The old woman smiled. “I was hoping for them to get together, but it wasn't to be. Then she married your father, of course. Quite the catch for someone of her social standing.”

“Do you think he has pictures?” Mary asked with a nod of her head in the man's direction.

“I'm sure of it. At least from when they were young,” Mrs Snape said. “More to eat, dear?”

“Could I?”

Mrs Snape smiled and nodded while she held out the serving platter with the sandwiches. “No need to be shy.”

Mary smiled gratefully and took another. “Thank you.”

“You're getting the guest bedroom. It's terribly bland, but do let me know what you like and we'll do it up.”

Mary shrugged. “I'm not too picky. I never really stay long anywhere.”

“I suppose you won't be here long either, with Hogwarts being a boarding school and all, but I have nothing against having you here over the summers.”

Mary smiled politely, but refused to hope she would be here every summer. For one, she had no idea if they were nice yet and secondly she hated hoping. Hope sucked. It was far better to expect the worst and then be pleasantly surprised.

 

* * *

 

Sleeping the first night in a strange house with a new family was always a lost cause. She closed her eyes and pretended when she heard footsteps in the corridor, but she couldn't sleep. The small house creaked randomly too, so sometimes she wasn't sure if one of the adults were moving around or if it was just the house settling. By morning she was tired and sluggish.

“Didn't you sleep well, dear?” Mrs Snape asked when Mary came down to the kitchen. She had dressed in the first clean things she had found in her bag. Her shaggy hair was in a messy ponytail she had barely managed to make without falling on her face while walking down the stairs.

“Not really. I never manage to sleep the first night,” she answered honestly. “The bed was comfortable though.”

“Oh, of course! Can't be easy on you, dear, being tossed about this way and that. Why don't you eat and then have a nap, I'm sure you're hungry.”

“Yes, thank you. Can I help with anything?”

Mrs Snape waved the offer away. “Perhaps another day. It's not often there's a child in my home to cook for and for now I'm quite happy to do the work. Anything you don't eat?”

Mary took a seat by the table so she wasn't in the way. “I don't like spicy food, like curry, but I'll eat anything really.”

When Mr Snape arrived she greeted him with a “good morning, Mr Snape” and a tired smile.

“Please call me Severus until school starts. 'Mr Snape' was my father. Despicable man,” he muttered. He didn't look like he had gotten any more sleep than Mary had.

“Not one of my better judgment calls,” Mrs Snape acknowledged. “Thank goodness we're rid of him. You can call me Eileen, by the way,” she told Mary.

“You look tired,” Severus commented.

Mary nodded. “Never could sleep first night in a new place.”

“I told her to take a nap after breakfast,” Eileen said.

“I'll have to take her to Diagon Alley.”

“It can wait, dear, it's been there for centuries it won't go away tomorrow. No need to shock the poor child by throwing her into everything too soon. She grew up with Muggles, you know, she'll need to be weaned.”

“Yes, mother,” Severus said. It sounded like he was used to saying that.

“Get her eyesight fixed, though. Those glasses are positively horrendous. I will deal with her clothes later. Can't have a girl in hand-me-downs and glasses. You know how the pure-blood families will react, dear.”

“Fine. Owl the old madam and I'll limit it to her and Gringotts for today.”

Mary must have zoned out because the next thing she knew there was a smoking hot omelet in front of her.

“Would you like tea or orange juice?” Eileen asked when Mary looked up from her lap.

“Juice, please.”

It seemed like Eileen was set on transforming her into something more respectable. Mary wasn't sure if she minded. Most of her clothes and things were cheap, old or hand-me-downs, so most of it wasn't even hers anyway. Truth was she had stolen a lot of the better clothes from foster family's biological daughter who had been horrid to her.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The bank, Gringotts, was housed in a large and imposing building. The strange little creatures who ran the bank were goblins, she had learned from Eileen who did not want her to freak out when she saw them. Eileen had also warned her to be polite with the small goblins, because as the heir to the Potter fortune she would have a lot of contact with them over the years.

They were paired with a goblin who took them to a room where they could talk in private. Mary had never been to a bank before. She had waited outside once when a foster family had put away money for their biological children.

“Do you have proof that the girl is indeed the child of the Potters?” the goblin asked Severus.

“No.”

“We will need to find out then. A simple blood test would suffice.”

“Blood magic is frowned upon,” Severus said, “and as far as I remember illegal.”

“This establishment is goblin territory,” the goblin stated, “making it legal – if still frowned upon.”

“I don't mind,” Mary said quickly. “Muggles do much the same thing to test that kind of thing.”

“Alright, go on,” Severus agreed.

“I will fetch our resident Healer,” the goblin said and left.

Mary looked around the room while they waited. There was a painting of some sort of historical scene, goblins side by side with other creatures and humans.

Once the goblin returned he had another goblin with him, an old female by the look of it. Mary smiled politely.

“If you could sit down, Miss,” the female goblin suggested.

“Of course.” Mary took a pillow from the couch and sat on the floor in front of her.

It earned her odd looks from Severus and the male goblin, but the female goblin seemed very pleased. She cast several spells on Mary before pricking her finger and collecting a few drops of her blood onto a blank piece of parchment.

Mary watched in awe as names appeared, it looked like a family tree. The goblins and Severus also watched curiously.

“It appears the girl is the heir to the Potters,” the male goblin concluded. “Miss Potter, when you come of age it is important that you come here to discuss the fortune of the House of Potter. For now you will only be able to access a small part of your family's fortune. Do you have someone to look after you?”

Mary indicated Severus.

“And you will be able to care for her?” the goblin asked Severus sternly.

“I will.”

“Very well, then there will only be one more thing to tend to. The vault keys the Potter family held have been lost, I presume?”

Severus shrugged. “It is possible someone took care of them, but I have no idea who that might be.”

“We will change the locks and make new ones. A key can be made that will look like something else. A ring or a necklace pendant have been popular with women over the years. What would you like?”

Mary shrugged. “I would like a pendant, if it's not too much trouble? Something not too obvious. People tend to nick things.”

 

* * *

 

As they prepared to leave Grinotts there was a large man dressed in rags being very obvious about talking of a secret mission to a boy. Severus pointed the two out. “You might as well know. The large one is Hagrid. He is, unfortunately, employed at Hogwarts. The boy is famous for surviving a killing curse cast by a dark wizard.”

“Surviving made him famous?” Mary asked.

“Evidently fame requires little effort in some cases. Your parents and his parents were killed at the same time. In fact, the two of you were found in the same crib the morning after. He had relatives willing to take him in.”

“And no one wanted me?”

“No one who was asked,” Severus said quietly.

“And those who weren't?”

“You never know. It doesn't do to dwell too much om the past,” Severus said with a tinge of bitterness.

“Why aren't you using regular money? You know, pounds?”

Severus smirked. “While wizards pride themselves with their magic, society is a bit behind. Many innovations Muggles have made are largely unknown or unused. Money, however, is the same all over the world for wizards – we only need to exchange when we need Muggle money. You'll see the benefit of that when you're a little older.”

“Oi, Snape,” the large man – Hagrid – shouted.

Severus strode up to the boy and Hagrid. Mary followed a little behind.

“Professor Snape teaches Potions at Hogwarts,” the large man explained to the boy. Mary noticed the boy had an odd scar on his forehead. She had one too, but his was much more noticeable.

“Hello, I'm Neville Longbottom!” the boy said brightly.

“Nice to meet you,” Severus said blandly. “This is Mary Potter, she will be in your year at Hogwarts.”

Mary smiled and gave a wave.

“Neville Longbottom,” the boy said and held his hand out.

Mary shook it. “Mary Potter.”

“Oh, now I remember, you're the other kid. Well, I'm the one who defeated You-Know-Who. Do you want an autograph?”

“Sorry, I was raised by Muggles, I don't about all that,” Mary excused sheepishly.

“I grew up with my gran. She's been really awesome. Well, see you around then, Potter.”

Severus quickly led Mary out of the bank and away from the crowd that had now formed around the famous boy. The sunshine seemed very bright after the dim light inside.

 

* * *

 

“The Healer who will adjust your eyesight is an old friend of my mother. It is terribly expensive, normally.”

“Will it hurt?” Mary asked.

“No, it doesn't hurt. You'll feel odd for a while and it might give you a headache afterward, but the procedure is painless.” Severus held up an unmarked door for her. “I had my eyes corrected here when I was younger than you, most pure-bloods and other magical families correct the eye-sight of children before they are taught to read and write.”

“So not a lot of kids have glasses?” she guessed as she walked into a brightly lit room.

“No, but some will of course prefer that. It was fashionable for a while.”

“Good day, Severus,” an old woman greeted. “I trust that this is Mary?”

Mary nodded. “Good day.”

“Have a seat,” the old woman gestured to an armchair. “I am a healer, and you needn't worry about anything. Take your glasses off now.”

The healer cast a few spells on her before chanting a string of words in Latin. Mary felt dizzy and nauseous before her body settled. She could tell the difference straight away. Her eyesight was much better, even though she stumbled a little when she tried to walk.

She was given a drink of some sort and then they were done.

 

* * *

 

The pictures Severus showed her of her mother were all from when Lily had still been Lily Evans instead of Lily Potter, but Mary was grateful either way. It was more of a link to her family than she had ever had. He used his wand to make copies of the photographs and gave her the copies.

“She was very good at charms. Overall a very bright student. Your father did rather well too, as I remember it. I never got along with him and his friends. It was in the early stages of the war and the propaganda was rather thick. Everyone in my house was suspected of being on the dark side, and I'm fairly sure that made many turn that way when the war escalated. We were already targets for the Order, either way. Your father's main complaint was that I was supposedly trying to make your mother go dark.”

“Did you?”

“No, Lily had enough of a spine to make her own choices.”

“How did they die? And what about that Neville boy?”

“After I joined the dark, there was a prophecy foretelling of a child that could rival the Dark Lord in power. He did not believe in it. Your parents and Neville's parents were living in the same building when he struck. I only heard about it after the fact.”

“So your side lost?”

“I swapped sides before that, plenty of us younger ones did.”

“What were you all fighting about in the first place?”

“The Dark Lord, nowadays usually called You-Know-Who, less commonly Lord Voldemort, wanted to reshape the magical community. The opposition wanted none of it, and they often blew everything out of proportion. One dead wizard living by himself in the woods became a slaughtered village, and so on. That isn't to say we did nothing atrocious, we did, but so did both sides.”

“You don't sound like you swapped sides.”

“My ideals are what they are, no matter what side I stand on.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Eileen took care of her new clothes very efficiently. Some type of seamstress appeared in the house to measure Mary and took notes about what colors she liked. It was over in under half an hour, and the next day there were several large packages waiting for her in the living room.

Trying on the clothes took forever though, and Mary was bored halfway through. Most of it was robes and dresses, but there was also pants and simpler clothes that she felt would be good to play in.

Once she could escape the old woman's clutches she went outside to explore the village. She was surprised to see people openly use magic. One old man got up on a broom and rode off. She stared after him. Brooms. Of course.

There was a few stores in the middle of the village, but they seemed to have no customers to speak of. She went into what looked like a grocery store and looked around curiously. There was produce on display, but not all of it looked normal.

“Can I help you, dear? Are you lost?” the clerk asked. She was an elderly woman who reminded Mary a little of Eileen. Most people seemed to be elderly in the wizarding world.

“Oh, I live with the Snapes,” Mary quickly explained. “At least until school starts. I just haven't seen most things here before...”

The old woman smiled kindly. “Muggleborn?”

“No, I was raised by Muggles, but my parents were James and Lily Potter.”

“They left you with Muggles? That's appalling.” The woman came around to where Mary was. “Well, let's get you familiar with the food then.”

It was getting dark when she returned back at the house with a bag full of various exotic – to her, anyway – food items.

 

* * *

 

Mary woke up excited to go to Diagon Alley again. She thought Eileen had been smart to suggest not to do everything at once, but she was also very keen on getting things for school and seeing more magic.

Severus first led her to a shop selling bags and trunks. The shop owner appeared amused by all the children in his store.

“First order of business will be to buy something to carry all your other purchases in. I spent too much time lugging heavy objects around my first year.”

Mary nodded, it sounded reasonable. She had usually had a school bag for all the books and things.

“You'll need a trunk, and perhaps a smaller bag to carry books and the like between classes.”

Mary looked around and found a bag she liked. She soon had a trunk picked out too, which funnily enough turned both nearly weightless and the size of a Rubik's Cube if she just spoke a word to it. There were clearly some practical perks to magic.

The bag was simply spelled so that it could hold more items than it should be able to, and to reduce the weight of those items somewhat as well. She could have done with things like that in her first year of school when she had lugged way too many books around because she was unsure if she would need all of them all the time.

 

* * *

 

Buying books, ink, quills and parchment was quickly done with, though quills and parchment seemed horribly outdated compared to paper and pens. Severus simply picked out what she needed. Same with other random items she would need in her classes. She didn't pay much attention, just double checked that they had everything picked out.

It wasn't until they were in a dusty old shop filled with small boxes that Severus pushed her forward to the old man behind the till. Severus introduced him as a wandmaker named Garrick Ollivander, and the old man greeted them both politely.

“Will I really need a wand?” Mary asked when they were done with the pleasantries. “I've been using magic without one.”

“You can write without a pen and walk without shoes too, I'm sure,” Severus drawled.

Mary nodded, it made sense – a pen was just a tool. The wand must make it easier.

Meanwhile the old man held out a box to Mary. “Try this. Give it a little wave.”

“No, no, that won't do,” the old man mumbled when the wand sparkled in Mary's hand like a cut electrical wire. He hurried off to find another, which he wasn't pleased with either. This went on until they had discarded six wands.

“Well, seven is a lucky number,” Mr Ollivander muttered as he searched the boxes in his overfull shelves. “You're just as hard to find for as...” he started saying, before stopping and going to a different shelf altogether.

Mary took it with little hope of it actually being right for her – by whatever logic the old man operated by. As soon as she held it she felt and saw that the wand had chosen her. An aura surrounded her briefly.

“The one who owned the other twin of this wand came in here many many years ago. A solemn boy, half-blood and orphaned as a baby.” Ollivander paused to cast a spell to make the discarded wands fly back into their boxes and the boxes place themselves on their correct shelves. “Tom, yes, that was his name. Very polite. Very powerful.”

“What became of him?” Mary asked.

Ollivander sighed. “He decided that Tom Riddle was too mundane a name for a Dark Lord and started going by the name of Lord Voldemort. Pity, if you ask me, he could have done better things with that mind and power of his.”

“So if I become the next Dark Lord you'll be disappointed in me?” Mary asked jokingly to ease the serious mood a little.

Ollivander leaned in to whisper: “You and your Death Eater friend both.”

“Enough,” Severus barked.

Ollivander smiled patiently at Severus. “Oh, make no mistake, I am aware you found your heart eventually.” He rang Mary up and accepted the payment she handed over.

They left quickly after that. Mary wanted to ask, but she wasn't sure Severus wanted to talk about it.

“I made some unfortunate choices in my teenage years,” he said, surprising her.

“But you changed your mind.” Mary held the list up. She had no idea what a Dark Lord even was, but she figured it was bad. “This is exhausting,” she muttered. She only had half of the things on her list. She wasn't used to having any money, or to be allowed to shop. At most she was allowed to help bring home groceries and maybe enough pocket money for a toy or some sweets.

Severus looked over at her list.

“Severus?” a woman called out. She was tall and slender. Her hair was in a neat bun.

“Narcissa, you look lovely today. Out to get Draco his supplies?” Severus greeted her.

The boy, Draco apparently, looked too pleased with himself for it to be anything other than superiority and smugness. Mary rather liked the name, it sounded cool.

“Yes, we're terribly proud to see him go,” the woman beamed. “Helping a student, I presume? Not like you to volunteer.”

Severus nodded. “This is Mary Potter. Mary, this is Narcissa Malfoy and her son Draco.”

Mary politely smiled and curtsied as she had been taught by a few overly strict foster families. “Pleasure to meet you both,” she said.

“Potter?” Narcissa mused. “Is she Lily's child, by chance?”

“Yes. It seems the Order placed her in the dubious care of Muggles.” Severus seemed a little bitter. “A shame really.”

Narcissa and Severus shared a look.

“Are you going to be in first year?” Draco asked.

Mary nodded.

“What house do you think you'll be in?” Draco asked.

“House?”

“Hogwarts has four dorms, or houses – Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor.”

“Oh. I wouldn't know,” Mary hedged.

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they?” Draco mused. “I'm sure I'll be in Slytherin. All my family have been.”

“Are you sure you want to deal with me every day?” Severus jokingly asked.

“You don't scare me, besides I've heard from older kids you're a good teacher.”

 

* * *

 

“Have you considered which familiar you would want?”

Mary shook her head. “Why can we only choose from three animals?”

“So no one in first year bring something dangerous, wouldn't want any accidental fatalities because a muggleborn thought a dragon was a cool pet. Let's go to the pet stores and see if we find something you like.”

“Couldn't they just tell it to behave? Snakes are easy to talk to, but most animals do what I tell them to.”

Severus stopped walking. “You can talk to snakes?”

“Yes?”

He looked curiously at her before shrugging it off and continuing to walk. “It's a rather rare gift, that.”

“How rare?”

“Very, and people tend to associate it with evil.”

Mary frowned. “People are dumb like that.”

In the store that sold familiars they mostly had owls in cages. Mary went to the cats, if she had to choose between owls, cats and toads she knew what she wanted. Some signs on the cat cages read 'Half-Kneazle'.

“What's a Kneazle?”

“It's a bit like a big cat, just smarter and occasionally much more aggressive.” Severus pointed to a few cages holding large felines. There were three in total. They had big, pointy ears and looked horribly bored.

One of them was small and fragile-looking. Mary reached out and slid her fingers through the cage's thin bars to pet it. According to its sign it was called Lime, likely referring to its eye color.

“That one is three parts Kneazle,” a worker said when she spotted Mary petting the creature.

“And the last part?” Severus asked in a wary tone.

“Cat, naturally. Can't breed 'em with much else, can we?”

“I want it,” Mary decided.

“Take good care training it then. If it becomes too unruly I'll use its parts in potions,” Severus said, still looking hesitant.

Mary nodded, but quickly forgot the threat in favor of asking the shop worker about diet and general care. While she had helped care for animals before, she had never been solely responsible for one.

Severus had to fill out some sort of paperwork before they could leave. Apparently the aggression part was no joke.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

George Weasley eyed the large stack of boxes warily. Fred sighed.

“Best get on with it,” George muttered.

Extra money or not, Grandmother Cedrella and Grandfather Septimus were not prone to give fun tasks to their grandchildren.

The twins grabbed a box each, lugged it to a table and set to sort the contents out.

“Do you think granny will teach us some hexes?” Fred asked.

“Maybe, she did teach us a few before last year.”

George went over the endless stacks of receipts and bills. He and Fred were getting rather good at managing the books of Septimus' shop. Percy was upstairs doing inventory, Ginny was helping decorate the displays.

“We've had two hole years without the Neville-drama at school,” Fred said.

“Think we can convince Perfect Prefect Percy to set up a new rule that no one may mention Neville more than once a day?” George mused. “Ron would be in detention until he's dad's age!”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Lime was already house trained and really not much trouble at all. Eileen was wary of the animal until she noticed that Lime was very friendly to people who fed him.

Somehow Eileen seemed to think she needed to be taught magic before starting school. Mary wasn't about to argue, because magic was cool, but she had assumed the school would teach her everything she would need to know.

Eileen frowned when Mary got up for the third time to get something she had forgotten to bring to their lesson time. “Just use the Summoning Charm.” When Mary looked confused she continued. “You picture the object clearly in your mind, say _Accio_ and do this wand movement.”

The old woman seemed very pleased when Mary succeeded.

“Good. The magic you have been using until now has mostly been wild magic. Not spells per se, just intent fueled by your power. It's considered a less refined way of using magic.”

“Is it?”

“The mages of old would probably disagree. They didn't use wands either. The wand is a later invention. Though I've heard some nations completely forgo the wand in favor of using hand movements.” Eileen opened an old book full with scribbles in the margins. “These are Severus' old books. Boy has the nasty habit of not respecting his books, though his corrections are valid.”

Eileen flipped a few pages.

“Now,” the old witch smirked, “let's teach you some curses and counter-curses. The other kids will know these, make no mistake. Bullying in the magical world can be very subtle and have dire consequences if you come unprepared. I taught Severus all of them, but we'll settle for the popular ones with you.”

Mary nodded. “Do people die at Hogwarts?”

“Well, not very often. It has happened. Injuries are very common, however.”

 

* * *

 

“Would you like to spend some time with a child your age?”

“I think I will have a whole school full of them later?”

Severus nodded. “True.”

 

* * *

 

One late afternoon they had tea in the garden. Summer was coming to an end.

“Not many days left now,” Eileen commented.

Severus hummed in agreement. Mary had seen him draw up lesson plans until late at night.

“I expect letters from both of you.”

Mary nodded. She wasn't entirely sure how owls knew how to deliver post, but she assumed the owls wizards used were special somehow. Or maybe she underestimated how smart animals were. Maybe animals were just unable to communicate just how smart they were.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Severus took Mary to the Hogwarts Express and made sure she got on the train before saying goodbye. He simply vanished, which Mary found in equal parts odd and fascinating. She hoped they would teach her that. It would be such a cool thing to do.

She was already in her school uniform. The odd fashion in the wizard world was becoming more familiar, but she still thought it was weirdly shapeless. At least the uniform was a standard school uniform, even if it was with the addition of cloaks and robes. Her long black hair was in a bun with her wand stuck through as if it was just a decorative piece. It was something Eileen did and Mary thought it was cool.

Lime was, as usual, draped over her shoulders like a scarf. He seemed to enjoy being where the action was rather than hiding somewhere quiet. He was still small and Mary wondered if he would grow more. As it was, he looked like an adolescent cat.

The old steam train was charming, not as plastic and cheap-looking as modern trains often were. Severus had told her the trip was not mere transport, as wizards had quicker means of getting from one point to another, but a chance to get to know your fellow students and see the British countryside. Or read a good book, if one were so inclined.

She considered sitting with Draco, but he was busy talking with a boy their age who Mary didn't know. She just smiled and waved as she passed him. He grinned back at her briefly.

Avoiding all loud and boisterous groups and the closed compartments she found a seat in the middle of a open layout wagon with a pair of older boys who looked to be twins. They were fiddling with something between them.

“Hi,” she said as she sat opposite to them. Lime climbed down to lay in her lap. There was a slim table between her and the boys that was littered with small parts of whatever something they were working on.

“Hi,” they said in unison. “First year?” one of them asked. “You have the look of one,” the other filled in.

Mary nodded. “I'm Mary Potter.”

“I'm Fred.”

“And I'm George.”

“At least, we think that's how it is, mum and dad confused us a lot over the years. It could be the other way around, or we could both be Fred. Last name's Weasley.”

Mary nodded with a smile. They looked like exact copies of each other, but the one who had said his name was Fred had a small scar above his eyebrow. Once she noticed that, she could see that they did have slightly different patterns to their freckles. Small details. In one of her foster homes the adults had triplets, and telling them apart was always tricky until you learned the small tells.

“I can see why. It must be nice to always have someone there, though. What are you doing?” Mary nodded towards the thing they were picking apart, or putting together – it was hard to tell.

It would have been nice to have someone along for the ride. She had very few stable things in her life, and they weren't all positive.

“This?” Fred asked.

“Is a prototype,” George filled in.

They didn't elaborate, and Mary didn't ask anything else. She just shrugged and allowed them their secrecy. Boys were like that a lot, they didn't want girls to know.

“Our brother Ron is in first year too, but he's been stuck to The Boy Who Lived like glue for years,” Fred said. “Our sister will come next year. First girl born to a Weasley in generations.”

“Are you a large family then?” Mary asked, hoping they wouldn't gush about Neville too much.

“Huge,” George said. “What of you? And are your parents Muggles?”

“No. My parents had magic, but they died in the war. I'm an orphan, I was raised by Muggles,” Mary said. “Mostly bounced me around with different families. I kept doing things they don't much like when I get upset, like turning a school bully into a pig.”

“What? Awesome,” Fred said. “Sorry about your parents,” he quickly added.

“You'll be in good company now,” George said.

“Not a Muggle in sight!” Fred exclaimed.

“What about holidays?” George asked. “DO you have a place to stay?”

“Yes, well, the teacher who came to give me my letter signed on as my legal guardian. So I'll have a place to stay while I can't live at the school. I spent half the summer with him. Him and his mum are quite nice.”

“That's nice.”

“Which one?”

“Severus Snape.”

The boys looked at each other in shock. “Snape? The tall scary Potions Master? Always dressed in black? I mean, he's good at what he does, but he's a bit scary.”

Mary shrugged. “He's been nice to me.”

She absently petted Lime.

Draco and the boy he had been talking to before stopped by them. “Potter,” Draco said to get her attention.

“Hi.”

“This is Theodore Nott, his father asked me to look after him,” Draco said. He seemed to like to have been given a mission. “Theo, this is Mary Potter.”

Mary rose up and shook hands with Theo. “This is Fred and George Weasley,” she introduced.

Theodore and Draco shook hands with the twins, who looked surprised, and introduced themselves directly to them. Mary sat down again when Draco and Theo excused themselves and left to see if they could find more people they knew.

“Never thought I'd shake hands with a Malfoy,” Fred muttered.

“Why not?” Mary asked. Sure, Draco and his family seemed snobby, but they were hardly the worst people she had ever met.

“Well, our fathers mother was a Black, and she got disowned for marrying into our family. Posh families like the Malfoys and Blacks consider us blood traitors since we associate with all kinds of folks, including muggles.”

“Draco is a snob,” Mary admitted, “but I don't think he's a bad person.”

A lady pushing a trolley came by after a while. It seemed laden with mostly sweets in colorful packages, but there were also sandwiches and various drinks.

“There won't be food until late evening, but the feast at Hogwarts is grand,” George said.

“If you're hungry, you should buy something,” Fred filled in. He bought some type of thick candy bars for himself and his twin.

“Of course,” George said, “mother packed sandwiches for us, but we gave them to Ron. That boy eats for five, thankfully it doesn't show yet.”

Mary bought a cup of tea and a chocolate bar, which was one of the few sweets she recognized. The lady smiled at her when she handed over the exact amount of change. Severus had urged her not to bring too much money to school as she would have little use for it. She cleared a small space on the table for her cup.

A girl sitting on the other side of the isle was short on money so Mary poked the trolley lady and handed over the rest of the money. It was just a few of the smallest coins, hardly a big deal.

“You're welcome,” she said since the girl was too busy gaping at her to say thank you.

She took a bite of her chocolate.

“Oi, is that a Kneazle?” George asked when Lime sniffed the small parts on the table.

“Uh, partly. Mostly? His name is Lime. He's quite sweet, really. Everyone seems to think he'll eat them.”

“We don't have pets. Our parents say we have each other,” Fred held his hand out for Lime to sniff, which he did.

“You seem a bit peeved about your parents,” Mary noticed.

“We love our family, we do,” Fred said and scratched Lime behind the ear, “it's just that we're the black sheep.”

“Personally I think we're the most sane of the lot,” George said and pointed. “I mean, look at our brother Percy. Couldn't spot a joke if it bit him.”

Mary turned her head and saw another redhead pass them, his nose comically high in the air.

“Bill and Charlie are alright, moved out of the house a while back,” Fred said. “They both did well in school, but they never bragged like Percy does.”

“Dad works at the ministry, researching Muggle artifacts,” George chimed in. “Mum stayed at home and minded the house for years, but she works a bit now that Ginny is older.”

“What ministry?” Mary asked. Lime jumped down on the floor and then jumped again to sit between the boys.

“The Ministry of Magic... so, you don't know too much about the magical folks?”

Mary shook her head. “Before Severus picked me up I just knew my name and date of birth.”

“Oi, must be a bit of a shock,” George said softly. He stroked Lime from head to tail.

“It's a lot to take in. Severus knew my mother. I had never seen a picture of her until he showed me one.”

Fred and George were quiet.

“Anyway, that's depressing, what dorm house are you in? Someone said there were four?”

“Gryffindor,” they said cheerfully in unison. “Mostly for people who act first and think later,” Fred said. “Though really, our Head of House says we should have been in Slytherin because we're sneaky sneaks,” George added.

“Does it matter much?”

“Well see, we compete between Houses,” Fred said seriously, “but it's not like everyone says. It's not like you're automatically stupid if you're in Hufflepuff or evil because you're in Slytherin.”

“Ravenclaws really are bookish though,” George pointed out.

 

* * *

 

Mary got off the train in time to see Draco confront Neville. “It's true then, what they were saying on the train. The Boy Who Lived has come to Hogwarts,” Draco smirked in full bully mode.

A ginger boy stepped in front of Neville, perhaps this was Ron. He looked a bit like the twins, but rounder about the face. “Sod off, Malfoy.”

“And who might you be? Another Weasley? I met your brothers on the train, they all had better manners.”

Mary started walking toward them, but Hagrid lumbered by just then. “Now, now, children, stop squabbling! First years follow me to the boats!”

She followed along with the others in first year. She saw Fred and George go over to carriages along with all the others so apparently there was something different about first year. The boats they were headed for were small and had a lantern in the front, but no oars or any obvious means of making them move. Then again, this was a school for magic. Four students fit inside one, but Hagrid just barely fit inside his.

Mary ended up with three other girls. Lime trotted up to the front and sat there as proud as a king overlooking his kingdom. The other three girls seemed nervous and they all awkwardly exchanged names once the boat started moving, but Mary forgot them just as quickly as she heard them.

Draco was in a boat with Theo and two other boys. Neville and the redhead were in a boat with two girls who seemed really impressed by him.

The flatness of the lake made the old stone castle on the hill all the more imposing as they approached. There were a lot of lights giving the old building a more majestic appearance. It looked like something out of a fairy tale.

When the boats docked Mary collected Lime and helped him drape over her shoulders again. All first years followed Hagrid to an entrance where an old lady who looked like a witch straight out of a children's book met up with them. Thankfully Mary had already noticed that contemporary fashion wasn't for the Wizarding World, or she would have assumed the woman was in a Halloween costume.

“I am Professor Minerva McGonagall,” the woman said. Hagrid took this as his cue to leave. “I will lead you to the Great Hall where the older students are already waiting. Form a line and walk in pairs. When we arrive I want you to stay standing where I indicate you to stop, until directed otherwise. You will be sorted into a House, which will be your second home for seven years.”

The girl who ended up next to Mary was a blond she hadn't noticed before. The girl took Mary's hand. She looked nervous enough to shatter at the first loud noise, so Mary didn't dare object or remover her hand. Once they were inside the castle they dutifully followed McGonagall through a large dining hall.

There were four long rows of tables decorated in different colors were students were seated and one long table for the adults. The older students curiously peeked at the first years. She spotted Severus up ahead with the other adults in the staff, looking grim and serious as he normally did. He seemed to be the youngest of the staff, though she had trouble properly determining the age of some of them.

“Before we begin sorting you into your Houses the headmaster would like to say a few words,” Professor McGonagall said.

Mary listened to the old man talk, but she was too excited about being sorted into a Hogwarts House to pay him much attention. He started by confirming that Neville was at school and to not give him a hard time. It was also forbidden this and forbidden that, she wasn't to keen on adults who simply told you what you weren't allowed to do. They weren't dogs.

She turned her eyes up to the ceiling to watch the night sky and the floating candles. Her eyes went to McGonagall again when the old wizard was done.

“When I call your name you will come forth and I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and it will decide which of our four Houses you will best fit into,” McGonagall explained.

The first few students didn't know where to go once they had been sorted, so McGonagall had to point for them. Some older students took to waving the newest members over after that. She noticed that Fred and George tried to point the newly sorted to the wrong table until Percy hissed at them to stop.

She tried to remember the names of the other students, but it was difficult to keep them all apart. The blond girl who had held her hand was sorted into Hufflepuff. There were quiet cheers here and there when certain students were placed in Houses. Neville caused a great stir when they reached Longbottom, which took a good while to settle.

Potter was a long way down the list, and Mary was more bored than excited by the time her name was read off the scroll. She walked up and sat on the stool. The hat nearly swallowed her whole head. She felt odd while it did whatever it was the hat did. Eventually the hat yelled “Slytherin!” and was lifted off Mary's head.

She went and took a seat at the Slytherin table. At least being so far down the list meant she knew where to go. There were a few more to be sorted, but not many. Soon everyone had been sorted into a House and Mary noticed she was in the smallest one. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had the most students by their tables.

Fred and George had been right about the feast, it was grand. Mary was a little put off that they weren't in the same House, but she already knew Draco at least. The snake on the banners over their heads was also pretty cool.

“Never thought you'd sort in Slytherin, Potter,” one of the older Slytherin students said. “Your parents were both in Gryffindor.”

Mary froze. “I didn't know that,” she said honestly.

“She was raised by Muggles,” Draco pitched in. “Apparently Longbottom was so important that they threw the other kid away.”

“That was harsh,” one of the older girls said to Draco before turning to Mary. “It's alright, you know. The Hat put you with us because you belong here.”

Mary smiled uncertainly.

“Sorry,” Draco said, then turned his eyes to Lime. “What is that thing anyway?”

“Oh, Lime? He's a mix of cat and Kneazle. I mostly got him because he almost has my colors.”

“Is he friendly?” one of the other girls in first year asked.

“Yeah, but he's a bit particular about who he likes. If you want to pet him you'll have to make sure he's willing to be petted first.”

“Mother bought me an Eagle Owl because she wants to be able to send me gifts,” Draco said, with a hint of a brag.

“My parents won't let me have a pet yet,” a girl Mary's age said. “They say it's a big responsibility.”

“I'm not allowed pets either,” one of the older boys said. “Killed too many of them.”

“This here's Marcus Flint by the way,” another older boy drawled, “Captain of our Quidditch team. Don't let him scare you lot.”

“I heard they won't let us play first year,” Draco said in a voice that begged to be proved wrong. “Father wouldn't allow me to bring a broom.”

“Yeah, your bones are too easy to break,” Marcus smirked. “Quidditch isn't for weaklings.”

“Are there other sports?” Mary asked.

“There's a choir and Gobstones.”

“Since when is _choir_ a _sport_?” Mary asked. She didn't comment on Gobstones, because she had no idea what that even was.

“We're allowed to start clubs,” Marcus said. “You could always start one if there's something special you fancy. School doesn't supply equipment and you need to get permission from Snape – though I think he asks the Headmaster.”

“A lot of muggleborns play football on weekends,” an older girl said.

“What's football?” a boy asked.

“A good excuse to yell obscenities and get drunk,” Mary said sagely, quoting one of her foster fathers.

“They just kick a ball on the ground,” Marcus said. “I know muggles can't fly, but it just seems way too boring. Now Quidditch, on the other hand, there's a sport worth playing.”

 

* * *

 

The Slytherin Dungeon which housed the dorms and common room was a little like a haunted house under water. A ghost called the Bloody Baron welcoming them did nothing to make this impression falter. They could see a huge white squid swim by the windows. The water was murky, but clear enough that one could see the creature as it was perhaps a meter or two from the wall.

The Prefects and the Head of House made sure everyone gathered in the common room so that they could remind older students of the rules and make sure first years got the information. They also explained what a Prefect was.

Mary sat Lime down on the floor and allowed him to roam.

Severus waved his wand and a map of the dorms appeared. “Now, sleeping arrangements. There has been some resistance to allowing random chance pick where you sleep, so we'll start by assigning everyone a bed.”

The Head Girl and Head Boy walked up to stand on either side of the map. “In order to do this right, we need to get to know each other a little,” the Head Girl said. “This will be quick. Just rise up, close your eyes and walk around each other until you find someone who your magic likes, hold hands and don't be afraid to form clusters.”

Everyone rose up and started walking with their eyes closed.

Everyone felt a little different, once she got the hang of it. She felt a pull to some, and she ended up holding on to two hands while someone had a large hand on her shoulder.

“Good job everyone!” the Head Boy cheered.

Mary opened her eyes and found herself with people she didn't know, though that was hardly a challenge seeing as she knew very few people at all here.

“Now, take a moment to look at who you're standing with so that you can introduce yourselves later. Does anyone oppose sharing a room with the opposite gender?” the Head Girl asked.

A few hands were in the air, but none in Mary's group.

It took the Head Boy and Head Girl about half an hour to arrange everything. Mary didn't pay much attention to it apart from noting where she would sleep.

Once they were allowed to go to their dorm room Mary felt a little out of place being the only first year student. Lime sniffed the room and examined the furniture excitedly. Their luggage was in a pile in the middle of the room, and they gathered around it.

“Rosalie Rosier, fourth year,” the oldest introduced herself.

“Margaret Crouch, third year,” a slim girl said. She looked entirely forgettable with her light brown hair and features that were neither pretty nor ugly. “I'm Barty Crouch's _niece_ , not daughter.”

“Daniel Burke, second year and best student in my year,” the only boy said with a slight bow.

“Mary Potter,” she said lastly. “First year. This is Lime,” she indicated her pet who meowed.

“You look more like a Black than a Potter,” Margaret said, “but then I suppose the Blacks are related to everyone by now.”

“I was raised by Muggles after my parents died, I wouldn't know,” Mary shrugged.

“Relatives?” Daniel asked.

Mary shook her head. “They call it foster care. Basically people get paid to care for you in their homes. Some are just doing it for the money.”

“Do you have a place to stay now? A decent one?” Rosalie asked.

Mary nodded.

“She's staying with me,” Severus said from the doorway. “Are you all settling in?”

“I might need something to help me sleep,” Margaret said. “I never sleep the first night.”

Severus looked to the rest of them and they all nodded.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Mary had gone to bed early to make sure she was on time for her first class ever at Hogwarts, but she needn't have bothered to worry abut it. The prefects had woken everyone in first year up on time and hustled them off to breakfast in the Great Hall.

Severus sat at the long table with them instead of sitting with the other staff members. He drank coffee and answered questions that were randomly thrown out by the older students. The first years were all quiet.

Mary wasn't going to eat anything, and with exception from two chubby boys in her year none of the other first years seemed interested in eating. The Head Girl handed them bowls with a small serving of porridge.

“I know you're all nervous, but please eat a little. Have some tea or juice. You need to be alert today,” she said. She went on to fuss over a few older students who weren't eating either.

Mary ate the porridge and then had a cup of tea. She tried to remember all the table manners she had been taught over the years.

Several owls flew into the room and delivered post to the students. It was mostly the first year students who got letters, probably to do with their sorting, Mary assumed. A few newspapers arrived as well, those owls going for teachers mostly. Neville received a large box carried by two owls. She thought she head him say something about fan mail, but it was hard to hear over the buzz in the room.

“First years? Could you all wait at the table when you're done? We will show you to your classes today,” the Head Boy said.

“Try to stick together today, it's easy to get lost at first,” Severus added.

“Are there language electives?” Mary asked, wondering if they would offer it. “I took French in Muggle school.”

“We speak French at home, I can help you if you do most of the work on learning new words,” Rosalie offered. She was sitting with Daniel Burke close to where Mary was.

“Yeah, that could work.” Mary felt confident enough in her basic knowledge that she could probably learn some things on her own. “I'll need a dictionary and grammar book,” she mused, as most of her language lessons had focused on learning new words or boring grammar rules.

“Can I join?” Draco asked.

Rosalie nodded. “Sure. I'm Rosalie Rosier, I don't think we met before. I know your cousin though.”

“Draco Malfoy.”

“How about we meet up Sundays? We'll practice speaking and I will help you with reading and writing.”

“Oi, Rosier?” one of the prefects said to get her attention. “We could round up some more? I speak French too, it might be good help for those who have ties to France. We could have a French Club.”

Rosalie nodded. “Yes, we could. Severus? Will you get some books on grammar, dictionaries and a few easy books?”

“I'll have it all here in a few days time,” Severus promised. “I will see if I can contact the Headmaster of Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons and have her send some copies of their course books.”

“Thank you,” Mary said quietly to Rosalie. The older girl smiled back at her.

“So, we have a French tutor. Homework and study help is offered every weekday evening after dinner in the common room. Quidditch is available from second year and up, talk to Marcus Flint about tryouts,” Severus summed up. “Anyone else who can offer anything or have requests?”

“My sister in Ravenclaw have done a debate and political thing for two years,” the Head Girl said. “You get to practice holding speeches and holding a civilized debate.”

“Fantastic if you're planning to rule the world,” an older boy half-joked. “I went last year, and I can recommend it. We use the Charms classroom on Tuesday evenings after dinner.”

“Any hopes for the Dark Arts?” someone asked quietly.

“You may study the theory,” Severus said equally quiet. “However, The Durmstrang Institute does offer a compact introductory education on the Dark Arts stretching over one year for adults. My advice would be to apply for that after you have graduated here.”

“What is the Dark Arts? Are there Light Arts?” Mary asked.

“Essentially magic that the British Ministry of Magic has deemed illegal,” Severus answered. “It's an older classification. In truth it is not very different from any other magic, but the spells usually focus more on harm and destruction. And magic requiring blood to be sacrificed.”

“Even if it's for a good purpose?”

“Even then.”

Breakfast finished up and older students went off in groups, some eagerly catching up about their summer. All first years in Slytherin were shown to their classroom by the Head Boy and Head Girl. It was nice to have older students looking out for them. Normally older students either looked down their noses or bullied the younger ones. Mary wasn't sure that wouldn't happen, there was after all that Marcus fellow who seemed like he could be bullying others, but so far she liked her House.

Their Transfiguration professor was already waiting when they piled in and took seats. Students from Gryffindor showed up in ones and pairs until class started. She wondered why their upperclassmen hadn't organized anything. Perhaps their prefects didn't see the point or their first years had wanted to find their own way.

“Alright, let's settle down. Transfiguration is one of the more dangerous types of magic you will be taught. I will not tolerate anyone messing around in my class,” Minerva McGonagall looked about as stern as she sounded.

Despite the stern teacher Mary found the subject to be fascinating, especially when she succeeded in completing their task almost immediately. She earned Slytherin points, not that she was sure what they were for, much to the clear disgust of all the Gryffindor students. It seemed House competitiveness was not to be taken lightly.

Neville and Ron tumbled in halfway through the class. “Sorry, we got lost,” Neville said.

“You and Bill take seats, and don't do it again,” Minerva said.

“I'm _Ron_ , Professor.” Ron seemed perturbed to be mistaken for one of his brothers.

Pansy tugged Mary's long braid and indicated in her book that she didn't get how they were supposed to do their task. Millicent was quick to grab Pansy's attention and explain it to her, even though the chubby girl had not managed the task herself yet. Mary politely corrected them and made sure she was as encouraging as possible. She'd spend seven years with these girls. Boys forgave much more easily, so she'd need to make sure she didn't end up alienating the girls and get bullied.

When class ended Mary stuck her wand in her braid and whistled for Lime who was busy watching all the wands waving around from his perch on a bookshelf.

“Miss Potter,” Minerva called.

“Yes Professor?”

“The next time you get bored in my class, please read ahead instead of just daydreaming.”

“Yes Professor.”

“I hope to see you excel at this subject since it seems to come easy for you, don't settle for keeping the same pace as the others. Your parents both did well in my class. Off you go now,” the older woman said almost kindly.

 

* * *

 

After Transfiguration they had Potions, also together with Gryffindor. Mary thought it had seemed a lot like chemistry when Eileen had gone over the books with her. They had all seated themselves in the small room when Severus entered with a stack of books floating after him.

“I understand your first class today was Transfiguration, where you may very well give yourself a tail. Do note that in Potions you risk blowing up the school and setting various plagues free. Exercise caution in my class, and follow the instructions carefully. Most of the deaths here at Hogwarts have occurred in Potions classes – this is not playtime.”

He pointed to the books which had neatly placed themselves on an empty desk.

“If you failed to bring your own book for whatever reason, borrow one. We will begin by brewing the Antidote to Common Poisons. This will come in handy for all your summer mosquito bites and bee stings. High quality potions will be donated to Madam Pomfrey who runs the hospital wing. Low quality potions will _lose_ you points, so make an effort.”

Mary had a moment of pure panic at first. She hadn't used a cauldron before, or done much cooking, nor had she seen half the ingredients in her life. Before she could even try to sort the gear out Severus gave a short and to the point explanation of how to use everything. She would have sighed in relief, but ultimately refrained, trying to keep her cool.

She shared a table with a girl from Gryffindor who pointedly did not talk to her. She did snort on occasion when people made mistakes and their cauldrons fizzled or puffed acrid smoke.

The potion Mary was making was kind of, sort of, maybe, coming along according to what the book described. She took notes on what she added and did just like she had been taught in her Muggle schools. They had been very stern about notes in chemistry classes, and to make lab reports.

The girl next to her finished hers long before Mary. Once her own potion was done, according to the book, she raised her hand to get Severus' attention. It was a different color than the Gryffindor girl's.

“Done?” he asked when he came over to her.

Mary nodded. “I think so, Professor.”

Severus nodded and, after a curious look at her notes, told her to bottle it. She carefully did, afraid to spill any in case it was corrosive or toxic. After writing her name on the bottle's label she left it on a table where other students had left theirs.

“Right,” Severus said when there was one bottle per student on the table. He sorted out a few bottles and grouped them together. “These are _not_ the Antidote to Common Poisons.” He read off the names and took points from the students who had brewed them. “Do make more of an effort next time. Now, none of these are high quality enough for the hospital wing. Can anyone hazard a guess as to how they could be made better?”

“Better ingredients?” Draco guessed.

“A possibility, but not in this case. Anyone else?”

“Brewed them too long?” Mary suggested. The Gryffindor girl had been done much sooner.

“Yes. Especially you, Miss Potter, since you took notes on every step. Why do that?”

“It's what we do in Chemistry.”

Severus nodded. “Unfortunately, those of you who have attended Muggle schools have often had such things drilled into you. In the future, take notes after you've brewed. Potions is more like cooking. The recipe already exists, no need to rewrite steps already written down.”

Mary nodded, feeling self-conscious.

“It's supposed to be brewed in ten minutes. No more, no less. Learn the next recipe by heart until our next class, and expect to brew this potion again as well so that you know it. Now, chins up, no harm done. It's everyone's first class and while I do not tolerate failure, I don't want you to dwell on it. I expect you to learn from mistakes and do better next time.”

Severus motioned for everyone to take their seats.

“Now that you have tried brewing, the next step is equally important. _Cleaning_. Mr Longbottom, since you seem to have the worst mess of everyone here, take this time to remember that every action has a reaction. If you make less of a mess, you will have less to clean. No one leaves this classroom until you have cleaned up your own mess. Once done, however, you may go to lunch at your leisure.”

Mary was done cleaning first, which surprised her. It surprised her more to see everyone clean by hand instead of using spells. Perhaps it was a good thing Eileen had taught her before school. She certainly did not relish the thought of cleaning a cauldron by hand.

“Miss Potter,” Severus called out.

Mary walked up to his desk. “Sir?”

He quickly wrote a note and handed it to her before waving his hand to indicate she should leave. She looked at the note while on her way to the Great Hall. ' _Those spells are beyond first year curriculum. Don't look so surprised the others don't know them._ '

 

* * *

 

It was early for lunch and there were only upperclassmen in the Great Hall when she arrived after a quick detour to the bathroom to wash up. Potion ingredients might be toxic for all she knew.

Mary ended up sitting between a chatty older boy called Miles Bletchley and the slightly scary Marcus Flint. Still, lunch wasn't horrible. Miles was a cheery and friendly boy who talked a lot. It was hard not to get pulled along when he told stories about his summer adventures, though Mary doubted the truth to some of it.

Then again, magic existed.

Once lunch was almost over Mary was approached by the other three she shared her dorm with.

“So, how did your first classes go?” Margaret asked.

“Alright, I think. I got some sort of points in Transfiguration but I didn't do too well in Potions. Except clean up, I guess.”

“That's brilliant,” Daniel said cheerfully. He pointed to four glass containers on the wall. “They're for the House Cup. All four Houses compete and doing well gets us points. The Headmaster mentioned it, but his speech was a bit ill-timed this year. Usually it's after the sorting. I suppose he wanted to get us aware of Longbottom.”

Mary smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, didn't listen much.”

“Relax,” Margaret smiled, “I was a mess the first week, but it does get easier. Just watch out for students who aren't in Slytherin – some of them think it's okay to call us names because they assume we're all evil.”

“What about you guys? Do we have the same subjects or do they differ?”

“We have the same basic subjects, yes, but older students have electives too,” Rosalie explained. “Mine was alright.”

“I got points in Herbology for recognizing a plant no one else knew,” Margaret said. “I'm going to have Potions next.”

“I had Charms first,” Daniel said. “I'm guessing you'll have that next since Professor Flitwick was gushing about how excited he was to have new students.”

 

* * *

 

After lunch they did have Charms. The short man teaching them had climbed up on his desk in order to be seen. He had a bright, cheery smile on his face. “Welcome, welcome, to Charms! I am Filius Flitwick. I'm sure after Transfiguration and Potions you will find my class a little less nerve-wrecking. Now, before we start you off on practicing spells, I would like to show you a little of what is possible. Charms is the skill of bespelling an object – or indeed a person.”

The atmosphere in the classroom settled a little, from uneasy to relaxed. The teacher waved his wand and made one boy's book fly around like a trapped bird. It landed and turned back to an inanimate object. Then he made another motion and a girl's quill started dancing.

“You will find that all magic require focus and practice, Charms is no different in that regard. If you are already familiar with any spell we are revising in class, feel free to teach your classmates. Or indeed, I can bump you ahead to the next years class. Several students in my own house take both their OWLs and NEWTs early.”

The rest of the class was spent practicing different wand movements and learning the importance of proper pronunciation.

Filius was quick to praise them when they got it right and, he was especially happy when a student who had struggled managed to get it right. It was infectious and a lot of them smiled and laughed as they filed out of his class.

 

* * *

 

Professor Quirrell was a complete loss when it came time for their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. His stutter was very distracting and his lecture boring. Thankfully he had set aside most of the class for quiet reading. The course book was decent enough, and Mary lost herself in it until it was time for the class to end.

They left the classroom in a group and headed for the Slytherin Dungeon. Dinner would be soon, but they wanted to leave off their books before that.

“I hear they used to actually teach defensive spells and have students duel,” Theodore said.

“Maybe it'll come later?” Blaise suggested.

“His _stutter_ though,” Mary complained.

“Ugh, _yes_ ,” Pansy agreed. “How did he get to become a teacher?”

They went to their rooms and left their things there before washing up. They were rounded up by the Prefects again and led to the Great Hall.

Dinner was less lavish than the feast the first night, but there was plenty of food and it was well cooked. She sat down with Rosalie since the seating arrangements did not seem very static.

Mary straggled her way through answering in French when Rosalie effortlessly switched languages. She had a hard time finding words for most magical concepts and objects, but Rosalie corrected her patiently when she said words in English.

When they started talking about food Mary felt much more comfortable, that was something she had learned before.

 

* * *

 

After dinner the Slytherin Head Boy and Head Girl gave all the first years in their House a tour of the castle. They were told they wouldn't be babied forever and that they needed to learn how to find their own way around.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

When she swore viciously over her unruly hair the next morning she heard a laugh.

“Come here Potter, I'll help,” Rosalie said.

Mary stood where Rosalie indicated and the taller girl grabbed a bottle. She put a little of the contents in her hand and rubbed them together before carding her hands through Mary's hair.

“This is oil, it'll make your hair softer and less likely to look like a bird's nest. It won't make it greasy, so don't worry. If you have a Potions class first thing you might want to skip this, because the fumes are more often than not likely to make your hair greasy. Just like cooking, really.”

Rosalie brushed through Mary's hair quickly, then grabbed her wand and said a spell. Mary felt her hair move on its own. Rosalie said another spell and then looked at her critically. “I'm surprised your hair is this cooperative, Potters are infamous for their hair.”

“Or you're a miracle worker, Rosier,” Margaret said. “Do you know how to color?”

“It takes hours if you want it done well, but yes,” Rosalie answered with a smile.

Mary walked over to a mirror. Her hair was shiny and braided, the braid twisted into a bun on top of her head. “Thank you!”

Lime meowed and rose up on his hind legs so she lifted him so he could be her fur collar like usual.

“You are very welcome, Miss Potter, now get your things in order so that we might adjourn to the Great Hall and break our fast,” Rosalie said with a snobby accent.

Daniel snickered while he bowed to Rosalie, but had his face straight when he held his arm out to her. “My lady.”

“Mister Burke,” Rosalie nodded her head in approval and took his arm. They waited like that by the door.

Mary and Margaret giggled while they gathered their things and then joined arms as if they were proper ladies. They trooped out of their little dorm room.

“Oi, what's this?” one of the upperclassmen asked.

“Mister Burke here is being a _gentleman_ and escorting me to the Great Hall,” Rosalie said pointedly. “ _Clearly_ he's the only one with manners.”

There were several outraged shouts from the older boys lounging in the common room. They were a bit intimidating with their flawless uniforms and slicked hair. Mary giggled at how easily Rosalie had goaded them, and Rosalie turned her head back and winked.

 

* * *

 

At breakfast Mary nicked an apple for later and put it in her bag before serving herself tea. It was more paranoid reflex than anything, no one at Hogwarts was likely to starve. She saw Lime had a bowl under the table with some sort of fish or chicken in it. Some of the other pets were under the table too, eating from bowls with their names on.

They were early, most of Slytherin and Hufflepuff were gathered, but Ravenclaw and Gryffindor had just started arriving. All the food was not on the tables yet.

“Why are you putting a tea bag in your coffee, Macmillan?” one older boy asked another.

“I invented a new beverage when I was cooped up in my parents summer house. It calls for coffee _and_ tea. Now, the key here is to then add cream and cocoa powder. Not milk, cream. Obviously when it comes to cocoa, more is better.”

“You fancy yourself as some sort of chef, don't you?”

“You cannot tell me that you did not like my ice cream inventions from last year,” Macmillan countered. “Actually, I sold those recipes to Fortescue for a few galleons, so don't make me out to be some sort of nutter – the only nut in my family is my cousin. Just got himself sorted into Hufflepuff. That's how you know you're done for.”

Mary stopped listening and put scrambled eggs and fried tomatoes on her plate as small serving platters were passed around. A basket of fresh bread rolls appeared on the table, so she took one.

Severus came in from a back entrance the teachers often used, but instead of sitting by the staff table he summoned a chair and sat at the head of the Slytherin table. “Good morning.”

“Good morning Professor,” they echoed.

“Madam Pomfrey has asked that you all stop by her office at your earliest convenience to be given a quick health check. This is not mandatory, but I expect all of you to go anyway.” Severus poured himself tea.

“With all due respect, sir, this plays out the same way each year. There's a twenty mile line the first day and then everyone forgets,” the Head Girl said. “Couldn't Madam Pomfrey come over to us after dinner and do her thing?”

“Quidditch tryouts,” Marcus Flint objected. “We have the pitch booked. Tomorrow would be better.”

“I'll take it up with Madam Pomfrey,” Severus said.

 

* * *

 

Their first class of the day was Herbology. Professor Sprout was a merry lady who clearly liked her plants more than she liked people. She had a very hands on class where they were expected to care for the plants while they learned about them.

Mary didn't much like plants. Especially not screaming, biting, semi-sentient plants that sometimes had tentacles. She wasn't fond of dirt or compost either, but she was new to this world and she didn't know everything the other kids knew. She felt the need to prove herself and do well – though it wasn't with the intensity of that girl in Gryffindor who sounded like a dictionary. She idly wondered if that girl was weird on purpose or had just been brought up to be insufferable. She got points for Gryffindor, though, and that couldn't stand.

Mary made up her mind then, that no matter how much she hated a subject she'd make sure the teachers didn't have to award too many points to that House. Weird plants or not.

Besides, her roommate Margaret Crouch was brilliant at plants and even had a few in their dorm that she cared for. She liked talking about her favorite subject too.

“Alright children! Gather round! Who can name these plants?” Professor Sprout had eight potted plants on a table.

Blaise Zabini raised his hand and pointed out two that he recognized.

 

* * *

 

“Potter!” Neville Longbottom called when they met in the corridor outside the History Of Magic classroom. “See you sorted into Slytherin.”

“See you sorted into Gryffindor,” Mary deadpanned.

“Bloody shame,” Ron Weasley said from where he was glued to Neville's side. “I'd be embarrassed to tell my parents if I had sorted into Slytherin.”

“Gran was really upset to hear about it,” Neville said, “she always spoke well of the Potters.”

“I really don't care what your grandmother thinks, Longbottom,” Mary said. “I've never met her.”

“No loss there,” Draco drawled and pushed Mary into the classroom. “She's not exactly high society. Funny thing about History Of Magic is the school board just replaced the teacher despite Dumbledore's wishes. Her name's Alecto Carrow. Used to be taught by a ghost, can you believe that?”

“A ghost?” Mary chose a seat near the front.

Draco sat down next to her. “Yeah. Didn't exactly keep up with recent events. You might not want to say anything positive about Muggles in this class,” he whispered.

Mary shrugged. “It's not like I normally do.”

“No, it's just...”

“The Carrows follow the Dark,” Theodore Nott said bluntly, sitting down on her other side. “You're in Slytherin though, everyone tends to assume we all go Dark.”

“Are those the only options? Light or Dark? What if I fancy a spot of green?”

“Zabini's family has always been neutral, but since the war was between the Dark and the Light, yeah, everything is still divided like that.” Theodore took out parchment and his quill. “Personally I think everyone should just get over it. It's not such a big difference in reality.”

“I feel like there's a trillion things I don't know,” Mary sighed. She picked Lime out of her bag where he had hidden since Herbology. The greenhouse had smelled of something he hadn't liked at all.

Alecto Carrow entered the classroom then. She reminded Mary a bit of McGonagall with her dark robes, stern expression and neat hair, but she was younger and more stout. Mary hurried to get her things unpacked.

“Settle down,” Alecto snapped, she waved her wand at the door and it shut with a bang, “I will do a roll call each class until I have learned your names. I expect you know by now that late appearances will cost you points.”

While the roll call took place Theodore scratched Lime under the chin.

“Alright, now that everyone is accounted for, let us begin class. We are not going to start in prehistoric times and move forward, instead I would like to start with something more relevant to you. We will go over Hogwarts history, the founders and important events up until today. You will be writing an essay about this subject instead of a standard test, the essay will be written in class next week and you will not be allowed your books or notes.”

Dictionary Girl in Gryffindor had her hand up so high she almost looked like she stood on tiptoes while sitting down. It was almost comical, especially when Alecto had her back to them so that she could write on the blackboard.

“She's such a teacher's pet,” Mary whispered quietly to Lime.

“Professor Carrow,” Draco called out just as Alecto put the chalk down, “I'm sorry to change the subject a bit, but are there any recent studies on how muggleborns have affected our society throughout history? Or Hogwarts?”

Mary could practically hear Dictionary Girl's frustration at both the turn the discussion had taken and that she got no attention.

“Not in Britain, Mr Malfoy, after the last war the Ministry has taken on a very Muggle friendly attitude and have banned all negative publications. I'm afraid there's nothing written on the subject that is not Ministry propaganda.”

“Would you mind telling us, Professor?” Mary asked sweetly, knowing Dictionary Girl was sensitive about Muggles. “I was raised by muggles after the death of my parents and most of them weren't very fond of my freakishness.”

“You poor child,” Alecto bemoaned.

“It was very difficult at times,” Mary said honestly. “Wizarding society is very different, but it also seems somewhat influenced?”

“Unfortunately yes,” Alecto said. “Britain especially, but also the former British colonies, have a very friendly view of Muggle society. We have abandoned our own ways in favor of Muggle holidays, banned magic that frighten muggleborns, and in many other ways smoothed out the differences. If you are interested we could talk after class sometime, but we really must get on with the curriculum if we are to get you all ready for the exams at the end of the year.”

“Professor?” Dictionary Girl said.

“Granger, was it?”

“Yes, Professor. I was just wondering if we are to use Hogwarts: A History?”

“There will be no need to buy additional books, Miss Granger. I will give you a lecture and you will all take notes. If you ever need additional material in my class it can always be found in the library. I can hardly expect all of you to afford vast amounts of books.”

She looked at Ronald Weasley as she spoke the last bit.

 

* * *

 

That night they had Astronomy scheduled late at night, so after lunch all Slytherin and Gryffindor first years had a study period in the library overseen by Madam Irma Pince, who was the librarian.

“In first and second year your attendance is mandatory,” Irma explained when they were all seated in a classroom adjacent to the library. It was lined with bookshelves and looked more like an extension of the library itself. “This is called a study period because you are to use it to do homework, read up on subjects you are doing poorly in, practice writing and reading if you need it, or do other things related to your studies. This is not a free period. However, those of you who are doing well in your studies are allowed to sit in the library and read _quietly_. I will not police what you read as long as I get no notes from your professors about poor results.”

She started walking around and handing out small cards. “Sign your names on these. These are library cards, you can trade them for books you wish to borrow. Lose it and you will not be allowed to take books away from the library. Lose or damage a book and the school will send a letter to your parents asking them to replace it.”

The cards were much like any other library card Mary had owned, but slightly fancier. One side had the Hogwarts coat of arms and the other side had a line where they were supposed to sign their names. Muggles had another system for their libraries, but she figured Irma had likely heard that from every muggleborn and kept quiet.

“Since this is your second day at school, I want each and every one of you to write a few sentences on your parchments so I can see which of you will need help with your writing. Go on.”

Irma went around to check their penmanship she had a scroll and quill floating in the air which quoted what she said. She then called out the names of those she wanted to stay in the classroom and sent the rest out to the library.

Mary took her time looking around in the library before she pulled out her Herbology textbook. Gryffindor was not going to win any points race if she could help it.

 

* * *

 

Astronomy class was somewhat dull. Mary had always known she was made for action rather than sitting still, and this class didn't even offer her the distraction of learning magic, per se.

She supposed one couldn't really be interested in every subject.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

First years had a late breakfast due to staying up late for Astronomy. The Slytherin table seemed uncannily deserted. There was no hot food, just things like cut up fruit, milk, yoghurt, cereals and toast. Then again they would be having lunch fairly soon.

“I'm thinking of taking choir,” Millicent told Pansy. “Do you wanna try it?”

Pansy answered something Mary didn't catch because Draco loudly said “Hey! Isn't that Weasel's rat?” He pointed to a rat that ran along the edge of the room.

“Looks like any normal rat. Think he just caught that in his garden?” Theodore asked.

“Probably,” Draco snorted. “I'm surprised Longbottom spends time with such riff raff.”

“You' two are such a snobs. What's with Neville being such a big deal, anyway?” Mary asked. “I mean, I know the basic story, I just don't get the worship.”

“He's been played up like a big hero who literally saved us all from certain doom. There's books about him and a line of children's books where he saves the world in each one against different evils, little Neville dolls, his face is on the box of a popular candy, everything,” Blaise said. “We all grew up with it, it's Neville this and Neville that, he's in the Prophet twice a year at least. There's _a lot_ of kids here that idolize him.”

“It's stupid, my father always said so,” Draco said. “He doesn't seem very special, does he, when you see him up close.”

“First time I saw him was at Gringotts. He asked if I wanted an autograph.”

“You should have said yes, they sell for a bit of money,” Blaise said.

Mary shrugged and sipped her tea. “I'll pass on that business opportunity.”

“Do we have _all_ our classes with Gryffindor?” Pansy asked.

“Yes, I think so,” Draco said. “I talked to a boy I know in Ravenclaw, they have Hufflepuff in all their classes.”

“Poor sods,” Blaise lamented.

“Poor _us_ ,” Pansy muttered into her toast.

 

* * *

 

Since they had a late start to the day their only class before lunch was Transfiguration. They revisited the information from the first class and everyone had to do the transformation they had been assigned last time in front of Minerva to show they had mastered it. Some couldn't and were told to get it right before next class.

“Now to turn it back to its original shape,” Minerva said. “Does anyone know already how we do this?”

Dictionary Girl immediately had her hand in the air, but she failed the spell when asked to do it.

Minerva then explained and had them practicing the pronunciation and wand movement. It was fairly easy.

“Professor?” Mary got Minerva's attention while everyone was practicing the spellwork. “You're the Deputy Headmistress, can you tell me why we have to use quills? Could we use pens instead?”

“You may use whatever you like for your own note taking, Miss Potter.”

“What about calligraphy pens? It looks the same as when you use a quill.” Mary dug through her bag and took one out. Severus had bought her a set in case she needed to adjust to using a quill.

“Yes, I've seen those before. I would not mind for my own class, but you will need to ask your other professors. Some might have opinions about using muggle tools.”

“If I put a spell on it, will it still be Muggle?”

Minerva gave her a look that said “obviously” and left.

 

* * *

 

After lunch they had double Charms. Mary was antsy and didn't like waiting for the slower students to finish. She wanted to run. Climb trees. Something. Not sit and wait on Neville making a feather float. Was it really that difficult for the savior of the wizarding world to master a simple spell?

She got up from her seat and went to help her fellow Slytherins. Gregory and Vincent still had not managed.

“Pause for a bit,” she told them quietly. She carefully pronounced the spell and made her feather float in front of them. “Say it exactly how I did and picture the feather floating in your heads.”

She did the spell again and again until first Vincent and then later Gregory succeeded.

Filius excitedly – the man seemed to do nothing with a neutral expression – gave Slytherin points for helping each other out.

Neville and Ron still struggled and everyone in Slytherin had done the spell correctly. Dictionary Girl groaned. “It’s Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa,” she snapped in her bossy voice.

“It's no wonder you don't have any friends,” Ron snapped back.

“Let's all try to be civil to each other, please. Percy, you'll get it right soon enough,” Filius said.

“It's _Ron_ ,” Ron moaned.

“Right,” Filius said, cheery as ever. “Well, we are sadly out of time for today's class, so pick up your things and run off to dinner.”

 

* * *

 

When Madam Pomfrey showed up in the Slytherin common room there were several groans, but everyone came obediently when their name was called.

It was quick, a few spells and questions. Severus helped write everything down.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

The fourth day of classes consisted of double Herbology before lunch and double Defense Against the Dark Arts after lunch. Herbology had not been too bad, they had been outside in the sunshine, touring the school grounds. They had stopped every so often to look at plants. It was like Biology class, and no overly weird plants.

Listening to a severe stutter for an afternoon, however, was nowhere near as pleasant.

“I am going to go _insane_ ,” Mary whined when she left the DADA classroom.

“We really shouldn't judge his stutter, it's not his fault he has it,” Daphne said softly.

“Oh yes, we can,” Pansy cut in. “I'm with Potter, this is insufferable.”

“I will be writing my father,” Draco said, “he's on the board of governors. It really is impossible to learn in this class. He always said Dumbledore was worthless at hiring teachers. It was father who made sure Severus was hired, did you know?”

“Maybe we should all complain to our parents,” Theo mused. “Packs a bigger punch, doesn't it, when more adults say the same thing.”

Mary was about to say she had no parents, but then she realized she could write to Eileen. “It couldn't hurt,” she said.

“If we don't have owls, do we have to wait for one of our parents to write us?” Millicent asked.

“The school has owls, you could use them. Remember when we toured the castle on our first day of classes? They showed us the owlery,” Draco said.

 

* * *

 

Thursday was soon a blurry memory and Friday arrived quicker than Mary had expected. She was happy the week was coming to an end, because her head felt crammed full of information she had yet to process.

Double Potions was not too bad. They brewed the Antidote to Common Poisons again and most of them managed to make it acceptably. They brewed the new potion and cleaned up. Severus told them what they would do next week in case they wanted to read ahead. Mondays would be theoretical, while the double sessions on Fridays would be for brewing.

After lunch they had double History of Magic with Alecto Carrow. Mary's hand felt like it was about to cramp when the lesson ended and she could finally stop taking notes. It was like they were writing their own course book.

Then again, Alecto was surprisingly interesting to listen to. She knew a lot of odds and ends about all kinds of things.

 

* * *

 

Friday dinner was in equal parts cheery and subdued. Mary went outside after she had finished eating so that she could get some exercise and so Lime could run around outside for a bit. He kept very close to her so she felt the need to allow him to do normal cat things.

The fresh air made her more alert than she had felt all day, and suddenly going to bed early like she had planned seemed unnecessary.

“There's a snake in the grass,” one of the older students from Gryffindor called out when she passed a group of them.

For a short while she thought they had meant her, but soon she saw Draco and Theo in the process of picking themselves up from the ground.

 

* * *

 

Once it was time for bed she ended up sitting on Margaret's bed along with Margaret and Rosalie.

“What does everyone do during weekends?” Mary asked.

“Catch up on homework, read, the Quidditch players tend to practice if there's no game, hang out with your friends, things like that,” Rosalie answered. “Those in fifth and seventh who will be taking OWLs and NEWTs respectively will live in the library and classrooms to get as much studying done as possible before the big tests.”

“What _are_ OWLs and NEWTs?”

“In fifth year you take OWLs – Ordinary Wizarding Level – to prove you have all the knowledge from year one through five. If you get a good score you will be allowed to continue to take those classes you scored well in for year six and seventh and then attempt to pass your NEWTs, or Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test. Which from what I heard is an accurate description...”

“If you pass your OWLs you can get simple jobs, but if you do well on your NEWTs you might get offers from the Ministry,” Margaret said.

“And if you fail?”

“Well, you could make another attempt the next year,” Rosalie said, “but most don't. I've never heard of anyone who did well for themselves after failing. Though, historically, like last century, highborn girls would only pass their OWLs and then be married off. It's only since the 1920's or so that highborn girls have started doing a full seven years. But really, who wants to be saddled with a husband and children at sixteen?”

 

* * *

 

Saturday rolled around. Mary had originally planned to just roll out of bed and show up for breakfast looking half-dead, but...

Well.

Slytherin students were always so... put together. They had polished shoes, they fixed their hair, they never had rumbled school uniforms the way Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had. Even the boys were found obsessing in front of mirrors.

It was the weekend so she wouldn't have to wear a uniform. She contemplated this while laying in bed and keeping her eyes closed. Someone was writing, the scritchity scratch of a quill on parchment was a low noise in the otherwise quiet room.

She sat up, made her feet touch the cool stone floor, and then went to find clothes that would be posh enough not to upset any delicate sensibilities. School uniforms made life simpler, she decided, because you didn't have to make any decisions early in the morning.

Lime stretched, rolled over in her bed and sighed in a way that communicated “no way am I getting up before noon” or possibly “I am a cat, I sleep, this is what I do” – and there was something inherently unfair about this.

“Morning,” she said to Daniel who was the one writing.

“Morning,” he echoed back, but he was too focused on his work to look up.

After forcing her hair to behave she put it up in a ponytail. The older girls always wore subtle make up, but Mary had no interest in it.

Rosalie and Margaret were somewhere else. Their beds were empty.

The common room was crowded when she arrived. To her eyes everyone looked dressed to go to a fancy dinner party. She wondered if they ever slouched around in pajamas or if that was beneath them all.

Severus was standing by the entrance looking bored. He would no doubt scrutinize their outfits the way he nattered about uniforms having to be perfect and according to code. Or maybe not. It was Saturday, after all.

More people trickled in, and Mary realized the clock was a few minutes too early to go to breakfast.

Daniel came in and companionably slung an arm around her shoulders and she gave him a half-hug by leaning in and wrapping an arm around his back. “You look less awake than Professor Snape,” Daniel said with a smile.

“Mornings should be abolished and tortured to death,” Mary mumbled while she rubbed her face with one hand in a very unladylike manner.

 

* * *

 

The Great Hall was empty save for a few students from other houses and three professors. Everyone looked up when Slytherin trooped in. It felt sort of worth the hassle to look perfect when people looked at you like they had no idea how you did it.

They sat down. Unlike the normal breakfast foods they had been served all week, the filled platters which appeared in front of them were loaded with fancier foods like pancakes, waffles and french toast.

The post arrived, with newspapers and letters and gifts. Mary did not expect to get any mail even though she had written to Eileen.

“Do we always get this on weekends?” Mary asked.

“Yes,” Daniel grinned. “It's great. Also, if someone has a birthday we have cake in our common room.”

 

* * *

 

Mary spotted a few of the girls in her year playing with dolls that walked and talked. They looked less mechanical than muggle toys that moved.

 

* * *

 

A lot of them ended up staying up late in the common room.

 

* * *

 

French took place just before lunch on Sunday.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

When their first flying lesson approached Mary was nervous. All the other Slytherins in first year already knew how to fly. Or, they said they did anyway. They probably bragged and exaggerated some, but they'd all grown up with at least one parent who used magic and nothing at Hogwarts seemed overly new or strange to them except for being away from home.

With her luck Mary would use the broom backwards and lose her House points. It was a disaster she had to avoid.

“Bletchley!” she called after the older boy when they crossed paths on their way back to the dungeon from dinner.

“Yeah?” Miles spun around and came up to her.

“Can you help me with flying? I'm the only one from our House who has never done it,” Mary pleaded before adding more softly, “I don't want to mess up and lose us points.”

She had picked him because he was on the Quidditch team, so would have to be good on a broom, and because he seemed like a nice boy who probably wouldn't outright be mean to her.

Miles hesitated for a few moments before he nodded. “Well, the pitch should be empty today... Let me get some things and then we'll go to the pitch, yeah?”

“Thank you!” Mary beamed. She skipped alongside Miles while he gathered his things. Lime had decided to take a nap in a plush chair in the common room, which was just as well really. While she had seen plenty of cartoons where witches had their cats on their brooms she couldn't fathom how an actual animal might hang on – though she suspected a liberal use of sharp claws.

Terence Higgs and Marcus Flint tagged along to the Quidditch pitch. Mary didn't much mind since they started doing laps on their brooms and left her alone with Miles.

After Miles had explained all the things she would have to do he gave her a spare broom the Slytherin Quidditch team had kept for emergencies. She almost felt silly for being so nervous when the broom responded immediately to everything she wanted. Miles got onto his own broom as soon as she was off the ground and stayed close.

“You're a natural!” he praised. He turned around and shouted for Marcus.

“What?” the older boy asked. Marcus could be a bit cruel, but appeared to be in a good mood.

“You got a Quaffle?”

Terence threw the ball they had brought at Miles, who easily caught it.

“I was thinking Mary could use a challenge, she's like a fish in water on a broomstick. We could just pass the Quaffle around. Just play nice, she's a firstie.”

“Hey! I'm not going to do anything,” Marcus defended himself.

Terence and Miles gave him telling looks.

“Right,” Miles said, “you remember that, Flint.”

Mary caught the ball when Miles threw it to her, and then threw it to Terence who gestured for her to pass him. They were flying towards the hoops. Miles shot ahead of them and blocked all attempts they made at actually getting the ball through any of the three hoops.

The more secure Mary got the more the older boys chased her and tried to physically take the ball from her. At first they had been throwing it in a wide arch, but she soon found she had to steal it while Marcus and Terence passed it to each other. She liked the exercise after sitting still and paying attention all day.

Because of the rougher play they all did more acrobatic stunts on their brooms – and Mary yelped when she miscalculated a reach and fell off. She was saved from free falling to the ground by Marcus, who easily caught her after a quick dive. She held on to him while her heart made a valiant effort to attempt breaking free of her rib cage.

“Come on! Just get back on it again!” Marcus encouraged. He kept a tight hold on her while he flew in close to where her broom hovered because of something Terence was doing, and Mary managed to fight back her fear enough that she could grab it and get back on. She was panting and scared, but also excited.

She hadn't died.

She had no broken bones.

She was fine.

“You okay?” Miles flew over to her and looked her over.

Mary nodded, not trusting her voice.

“I thought you said she's never flown before?” Terence asked Miles.

“I haven't,” Mary said, her voice more than a little shaky.

“Almost a pity we can't have first years on the team, you'd be great with a bit of training,” Terence told her.

“Thank you.”

Marcus had the ball in his hands, and threw it to her. “Yeah, yeah, let's see if you can score.”

Mary grinned, because he was the scariest person in Slytherin and he had still caught her. Hogwarts was turning out to be good. It was getting darker and cooler, but there was still enough light to play. She felt a little better knowing they'd help her if she screwed up, but she wasn't about to try anything too risky just yet.

 

* * *

 

Feeling confident that she wouldn't embarrass her House, Mary held her head high as she went to her first flying class with Rolanda Hooch.

“Good afternoon, class.”

“Good afternoon, Madam Hooch.”

“Welcome to your first flying lesson. As you have noticed, this is when you normally have your study period. I will be talking to Madam Pince regularly, and should either of you fall behind in your studies you will not be allowed to take these lessons.”

There were a few disappointed noises from the gathered students.

“Let's get on with this. Stand by a broom and hold your hands out, call for it by using the word 'up'.” Madam Hooch gave her instructions in a strict voice.

The brooms were rickety old things, worse than the one she had ridden when Miles taught her, but hers nevertheless responded quickly once she said the word.

“Good, Miss Potter,” Madam Hooch called out.

“You were quicker than me,” Draco huffed.

Mary shrugged. Others were getting their brooms to obey too, Slytherin more quickly than Gryffindor. “I may have done this once before,” she admitted when Rolanda was out of earshot.

“Once? I see a pattern here, Potter,” Draco muttered. “You're just going to be the best in our year without trying, aren't you?”

“At least if I am, it won't be Gryffindor.”

“That's the spirit!” Draco smirked.

They were told to mount them, levitate, then come back down and land. Sedate and boring, but a good start. She wished someone had told her the class really was for beginners, or she wouldn't have been worried sick about it. Then again, playing with the older boys had been fun and she wanted to do it again. If she had just waited until the class Miles would never had given her the opportunity to goof around.

Perhaps she would check if they wanted to let her play again.

Neville's broom shot off as soon as he was on it, clearly it had either been jinxed or it was faulty. Or, both. He was screaming at first, then he got it under control and flew around for a while.

“That was wicked,” Ron said in awe.

“Mr Longbottom, I think my instructions were very clear,” Madam Hooch scolded when he came down.

“It wasn't _my_ fault,” Neville argued. “This broom is tampered with. You're lucky I knew how to fly already!”

“You just had to show off, didn't you?” Draco sneered.

“Enough!” Madam Hooch called.

Ron and Neville were glaring at Draco for the rest of the class.

When they left Ron got his wand out and cast a spell. They were all surprised to see Draco in bright pink hair.

Pansy threw a jinx at Ron and called him a filthy blood traitor.

Draco didn't seem too concerned, and Mary knew the Gryffindor boy would no doubt be in for some retribution. Vincent and Gregory were teasing him relentlessly about the girly color. The Slytherin prefects knew how to turn his hair the right color again, but Draco spent quite a few hours pink before it was corrected.

 


	12. Chapter 12

“Aren't you homesick, Potter?” Gemma Farley asked. Mary had finally started learning the names of all the Prefects and some of the other upperclassmen who seemed nice. Gemma was a Prefect and seemed to be in some sort of tiff with Percy Weasley.

Not that anybody liked Percy. He was a bit too invested in the rules and a little too high on his power trip.

“No, Miss Farley,” Mary said politely.

Mary was in fact the only one in first year who was not homesick. She didn't have a home, not really, and she had been uprooted and moved around so much that it didn't bother her to be in a dorm. She had it better at Hogwarts than she had in most of the foster families she had been placed in.

Some of the students had been randomly crying since the first weekend, even the older ones, and everyone seemed to want to talk about their siblings and parents. Their rooms, their family pets. Mary wondered if she had been the same, if she had been able to stay somewhere her whole life. As it was she found it more bothersome that everyone was so emotional.

It was impossible to go to the toilet without finding some girl crying alone in a stall.

The boys kept it inside a little better. Draco was the worst of them. He was sulky and irritated during class, but in their common room he was subdued and sad. His large Eagle Owl would hardly get any rest with all the messages being sent back and forth to his parents.

“It's alright to call me Gemma,” the older girl quickly assured her.

“Mary.”

“Is that third year Transfiguration you're reading?” Gemma asked, noticing the cover of the book.

“Yes. I borrowed it from Margaret Crouch, she said there were some really good explanations for the theories. The first year book is very sketchy on the details, and the second year book wasn't much better. It's just about memorizing formula, memorize wand movement, correct pronunciation, focus your mind and all that. You don't really learn the inner workings.”

“Is that your favorite subject then?”

“I don't think so. It's terribly difficult and Professor McGonagoll is very strict. I get really confused at times, but when I do get it, it's really easy.”

Gemma nodded.

“Our first day we got the task of turning matches into needles. I had no problems with that, at all. Now we're on the Avifors spell and while I can perform it I really don't understand how an inanimate object can be made living. A match and a needle are both inanimate.”

“Well, they're not living per se. Let's say you transform yourself into a chair, you'd still be alive and thinking. Likewise transforming a book into a bird will only make it mimic a bird.”

“Oh, that makes more sense. Thanks.”

Gemma nodded and walked off to check on Vincent who struggled with his homework.

“Potter!” Marcus yelled. He had Quidditch gear in his arms.

“Coming!” Mary yelled excitedly and ran to her room to leave the book.

Severus looked up from where he was helping Millicent with her homework when Mary ran past to join the boys on the team. “She's too young to be on the team.”

“Uh-huh, but she practices with us and there's no rule for that,” Marcus said smugly.

“I need the exercise since there's no PE,” Mary called as she walked through the common room. “Besides, I've done all my homework and I handed in the essay for Astronomy early.”

Severus waved her off and went back to helping Millicent.

It was cold and the ground was wet, but they ran to the pitch as warm up, and then ran several laps around it. At the end of it Mary was winded, tired and her throat felt sore.

Next they split up and half did passes and throws with Quaffles, while the other half used bats to beat modified Bludgers. Marcus had mentioned that it was important everyone try all the different balls, and Mary felt that dealing with Bludgers definitely built muscle strength.

Next came a break where everyone stretched sore muscles, and then the actual flying. Miles had sneaked the spare broom with him for Mary to use.

At the end of practice she was tired enough that showering and changing for bed almost felt like more work than she could manage, but she slept very well after.

 

* * *

 

“Get up,” Rosalie demanded.

“Can't. Move.” Mary stretched. “God! It's like everything hurts.”

“It'll go away, and so will your grades if you don't move. There's a reason Quidditch isn't an option until second grade.”

Mary groaned, but she was at a school that taught magic, which was all kinds of cool. She really didn't want to miss a thing. Not even her more boring subjects. After all, maths had been boring, but had proved useful later on.

“Why do you practice with them?” Daniel asked, primping in front of the room's full length mirror.

“Parts of it is fun, and playing is fun, and I always liked sports, and I don't want to be weak,” Mary rambled.

“Just be careful,” Daniel said with a smile.

“Sir, yes sir!” Mary said and struck a military pose. She caught her reflection in the mirror and noticed that her rumpled sleep clothes and messy hair made it rather comical. “I look a mess!”

“Dress and clean up, I can help you with your hair,” Rosalie offered.

“I want braids!” Mary said as she rushed to gather clothes and then locked herself in the nearest bathroom.

Rosalie was a very prim and proper person who always looked like she was about to pose for an upscale fashion magazine. Mary envied the older girl her flawlessness, but at the same time she knew it took a lot effort and time. Something she wasn't always willing to put in herself. She felt being clean was more than enough.

Once she had done all necessities and quickly dressed in school uniform so she wasn't naked in the corridor – not that such a thing had never happened – she went back to her dorm room.

Margaret was playing the flute now that they were all up. Sometimes she did it with some sort of silencing spell around her. Mary noted Rosalie had probably done Margaret's hair too that morning. It was curling softly around her face.

Mary sat on the chair Rosalie pointed at and allowed the older girl to sort out her hair. After a good brushing, some oil, and Rosalie's nimble fingers and even more nimble spells, Mary's hair not only looked neat and shiny – she looked nearly as pretty as Rosalie.

“You are awesome,” Mary praised.

“Thank you. I was thinking of becoming some sort of beautician after school,” Rosalie said. “Or possibly start selling my own line of products. Professor Snape is quite pleased with my work in Potions.”

“One of the Muggles I lived with was a hair stylist,” Mary shared, “she couldn't have babies because of all the chemicals she had to work with, but she would paint my nails with this glittery nail polish. It was awesome. I don't know why I couldn't stay with her, they don't always say.”

Rosalie gave her a hug, and Mary hugged back.

“Alright children, grab you book bags and wands, it's time for breakfast,” Rosalie ordered.

“Yes, mom,” Daniel teased.

“Watch your tone, young man.”

 

* * *

 

Mary was sore all day, but she forgot it that evening after dinner when Severus gave Rosalie a parcel and she in turn called all the girls to her. “Who wants their nails painted?”

There were a lot of squealing, and a few offers from the upperclassmen to help Rosalie paint.

“Oi, what about us?” Miles asked.

“By all means, Bletchley, join in on the fun,” Rosalie laughed. “We can use House colors, there's not just pink in here. I could paint your pinky finger like the Slytherin coat of arms.”

“First years first?” the Head Girl asked.

Rosalie nodded. All five girls in first year sat down on one side of a table, with five older girls opposite. Mary sat opposite Rosalie. Picking out a color took the longest, and Rosalie showed her helpers how to apply little fake gems with a levitation charm after applying a base color. She used her wand to dry the polish and then applied a clear coat.

Surprisingly, Severus ushered the first year boys to the table and told them a clear polish would just make their nails look healthier and not so easy to chip.

Mary skipped around happily and then turned on some upbeat music on the boombox someone had brought from their muggle home. The cord was not plugged in and there was a small note by it that said it was enchanted. Daniel grabbed her hand and made her dance with him.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Eileen hammering into her head that it was stupid to get up to retrieve items when there was a perfectly good Summoning Charm meant that Mary was familiar with the spell. The older students used it all the time so she didn't notice that the younger students did not.

During a Charms class she got bored when another old woman's words popped into her head. McGonagall had told her not to sit idle, and to read ahead. She noticed Filius had all books the different years needed in one of the bookcases behind his desk. She focused on the second year's spellbook and summoned it.

She was just about to open the book when Filius burst out a hushed “Miss Potter!”

“Professor?” Mary asked, with a sinking feeling of having done something wrong.

“You used a Summoning Charm,” Filius whispered.

“Yes Professor.”

“I normally don't teach that until fourth year.”

“Oh,” Mary said in relief when she realized he was impressed, and not about to scold her.

“You seem to have an easy time learning new spells, Miss Potter.”

Mary nodded. “I still feel awkward needing a wand, though. The magic is in _me_ , not the wand.”

“True, but the wand helps channel the magic.”

“Wouldn't it be better to teach us to focus? The wand and the movements and the incantations – all they do is force you to think about what you're doing and focus your magic appropriately. I get that wands might be necessary in Transfiguration, but only until you've mastered a spell.”

“I fear, Miss Potter, that very few in this class would manage.” Filius had an excited glint in his eyes despite his objection. “Though, being the Head of Ravenclaw House, known for our knowledge seeking, I will not hinder anyone from learning. As long as you can perform the spells with a wand... feel free to use wandless or silent magic.”

“Silent?”

“You don't need to say the words of the spell if you have enough discipline,” Filius explained in a conspiratorial tone.

Mary tried to silently summon the third year's spellbook and grinned triumphantly when it worked.

“I'll have to ask that musty old hat why you weren't placed in Ravenclaw,” Filius mused thoughtfully. “Pity. Would you mind if I had words with your Head of House? We might need to place you ahead of the other students.”

“I don't mind, Professor.”

That would stop her from being bored in class.

 

* * *

 

Severus intercepted her in the hallway before she reached the Great Hall to have dinner. “I was told that you did rather well in Charms today, Miss Potter.”

Mary nodded. “Professor Flitwick is very liberal with praise, though. It was just a Summoning Charm.”

“Keep it up, even so,” Severus said with a small smile. “I may have to warn you that Professor Flitwick called you a prodigy during his classes with the third and fourth year students.”

“But I'm not,” Mary objected. She worried she would get teased if she did too well. Really, she just wanted to beat Dictionary Girl... not be her.

Severus gave her a crooked smile. “No?”

“I bet loads of people who grew up in magical families can do better. Everything is new to me...”

“Oh, and she's humble,” a familiar voice said from behind her. She turned to see Fred and George.

“Odd for a Slytherin,” Fred said. At least, she was pretty sure it was Fred.

“We grew up around magic, you know,” they said in unison. “Still can't do non-verbal spells,” George went on. “Or completely leave the wand out,” Fred continued.

“And yet you have two brains while I only possess one,” Mary said cheekily.

Severus hid his laugh by turning around and entering the Great Hall, his black cloak billowing at the sudden movement. The twins looked stunned for a second before they looked at each other. Mary figured she'd get punished for that and took a step away from them.

She didn't expect Fred to grab her in a hold while George tickled her. “Think you're funny, do you?” George asked.

She didn't answer – unless uncontrollable laughter counted as an answer – but she managed to wriggle out of Fred's hold just as Minerva came out of the Great Hall and shot a stern look at the twins. “Come eat now, playtime can wait,” she ordered.

Mary was still giggling when George and Fred grabbed one of her arms each and dragged her into the Great Hall.

“What do you two think you're doing now?” Minerva asked.

“Coming to dinner,” the twins said in unison. “It's important firsties eat,” Fred added.

Mary noticed she was being dragged to Gryffindor's table. “Usually you send a written invitation to dinner parties, you know,” she pointed out.

“Never been to one,” they replied in unison.

She was made to sit between them. Fred placed a full plate in front of her. George poured drinks for the three of them. Shrugging, Mary started to eat. She sometimes during the day had gotten caught up in staring at her nails, but she tried not to. She was in lion territory and it was important to act properly. Somewhat, anyway.

“There's a snake at our table,” Ron said in disgust, goading a laugh from a lot of the Gryffindor students.

“What would mother say if she heard you now?” Fred asked Ron.

“Have some manners, Ronald,” George chided.

“You'll make people think we're as bad as... the Slytherins,” Fred admonished. Mary elbowed him.

Lime jumped out of her bag and into her lap. Fred promptly lifted him to his own lap and started scratching under his chin.

“Besides, her parents were in Gryffindor,” George informed. “She can't be completely rotten with parents like James and Lily Potter. They fought You-Know-Who alongside the Longbottoms.”

“Personally I don't see the big deal,” Mary admitted. “We're split up to make smaller groups, it's a strategic move to make us feel more at home since this is a boarding school. The Sorting Hat doesn't place us based on how evil or good we are.”

“Pure-bloods do end up in Slytherin,” Neville said.

“Truly? Like you, for instance? And are you saying Mrs Weasley has an affair going on? Ignoring the whole blood traitor debate, the carrot tops are all pure-bloods too.”

“Oi,” Fred said.

“Carrot top?” George exclaimed in mock hurt.

“Muggles say gingers have no souls,” Mary proclaimed sagely. “Therefore, according to Neville's logic, you either belong in Slytherin because you're evil or your mom isn't shagging your dad.”

“We had souls,” Fred said bleakly, “but Filch's cat ate them.”

“Never get detention with Filch,” George said seriously.

“Unless you want to nick stuff from his office,” Fred quietly added. “Personally, I kind of think that makes it worth it.”

“Potter!” Marcus shouted from across the hall, loud enough that everyone stopped to look at him. “What are you doing over there?”

“Dinner party,” Fred yelled back.

“She only agreed under torture,” George added.

“Mrs Weasley needs to teach her brood how to send out invitations,” Mary shouted. “You'd think the lot of them was raised by wolves.”

“I'll have you know our mother was a Prewett,” Percy sniffed.

Mary rolled her eyes. “You must be fun at parties.”

“Perfect Percy?” Fred snickered. “No. He's a bit of a twat.”

Percy hissed something about giving them detention.

“Sorry, we're booked this week. Snape took offense to us brewing in his classroom at night.” Fred handed Lime to George.

“What were you brewing?” Mary asked.

“Little bit of everything, we've been trying to add potions to candy, makes for great pranks. Unfortunately they tend to taste bad so we were experimenting and managed to blow a cauldron up.”

“So you see, Percy, we can't have detention this week.”

“Prefects can only give you detention the same day,” Fred whispered. “But we're too clever for him.”

“Did it ever occur to you two that Professor Snape might help you refine potions if you just asked?” Mary wondered.

“He doesn't like us,” George snickered. “We used to steal neckties from the Slytherins and then wear them so it would lose Slytherin points when we got into trouble.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

He had split them up.

Professor Snape, arguably Hogwarts' meanest teacher, had split them up.

Greasy git.

George Weasley had been away from Fred Weasley for more than an hour before – they were identical twins, not Siamese twins – but the last time had been before they started Hogwarts. Hopefully whatever Filch had planned for poor Fred would not be too painful.

Given what they had heard about Snape when they had started school, George had been surprised that Snape was not worse. Their parents had hinted at the git being a Death Eater, Bill and Charlie had warned in letters to keep their head down. Percy had just said to work hard, in true Perfect Prat Percy fashion.

“Stop sulking Mr Weasley. I did mention, I hope, that neither of you would enjoy this,” Snape said as he laid out familiar ingredients on a worktable.

“Do you even know which one I am?” George muttered.

“Yes, _George_ , I can tell you two troublemakers apart,” Snape said equally quiet. It was surprising, but then his ward, the small Potter girl, had been quick to tell them apart too. Perhaps clever people were clever like that. Or perhaps other people didn't look closely enough.

“This is what you used in one of the cauldrons when you brewed,” Snape said. “Tell my about this little session.”

George shrugged. “Not much to say, professor.”

“Oh? There's not?” Snape glared at him. “Did you assume I would fail to recognize experimentation when I saw it?”

George shrugged again.

“Did you realize that your lackluster interest in Potions has led to you and your brother cooking up several batches of poison?”

George shook his head. He rather liked to think he was actually good at Potions, but he and Fred were the class clowns. Just like they were the mischief makers at home, because there was no other spot for them to claim. They could go on to be invisible middle children – but where was the fun there?

Snape picked out several more ingredients and laid them out. “You were trying to make the potion tasteless,” he said. “I am relatively sure that would have featured in another one of your juvenile schemes.”

“You've got to admit it tastes rather foul,” George said, attempting to joke, but Snape was immune to humor.

“Do you think no one else had that thought? It's not enough to know what properties an ingredient has, you also need to know how it reacts with the other ingredients. I have made deadly poisons by mixing harmless ingredients, and likewise healing potions with mostly toxic ingredients.”

“So we messed up. Our bad.”

Snape held up an ingredient George had never seen before. He looked expectant, but George could no more identify it than he could fly to the moon on his Cleansweep. He shook his head.

“No?” Snape asked. “Professor Sprout has slacked off, then. She used to teach about this plant in year two. This will reduce the taste in this particular potion without making it highly toxic. However, the side-effects include acute constipation.”

George watched as a heavy tome slammed down on top of the desk. He didn't flinch, he was far too used to explosions and loud noises for that.

“You will write down what each of these ingredients do.”

 

* * *

 

George went down to the dungeon for his second detention with Snape while Fred grumbled his way over to Filch. They both agreed George had pulled the long straw – Filch was always the more awful choice. If Snape hadn't been able to tell who was who they would have swapped and shared the misery.

One of the Slytherin NEWT students was talking to Snape when he entered the classroom so George sat down on top of a worktable and waited. The classroom was clean, and everything was in its proper place. George took this to mean the sixth or seventh year NEWT students likely had been the last class.

When the older student left Snape looked at him. “I see you have arrived on time, Mr Weasley.”

“Almost worth an Exceeds Expectations, isn't it?” George joked, before he remembered that Snape had no sense of humor. The glare only reinforced this assessment.

“I have written your parents, and talked to your Head of House, about that little stunt of yours.”

Talking about expectations, they had expected that. Snape was notorious for being quick to write the parents of anyone who misbehaved. Mum would have a fit. There would probably be a Howler.

“Thank you, professor,” he said sarcastically.

The door slammed open and a small shape darted in at full speed. There was a high pitched, frantic “she jumped” repeated over and over. George only recognized the Potter girl when she stopped, both small hands grabbing Snape's arm.

“Who jumped?” Snape said calmly, never one to be caught up in the mood of those around him.

“One of the Ravenclaws jumped from the Astronomy Tower, we all saw it. They're taking her to the infirmary, Professor McGonagall said to fetch you.” One of the girl's hands had flown to her mouth, all she could do was cry and shake her head. It reminded him of Ginny, of how when she cried she always tried to be quiet about it. As if they would tease her less that way.

Snape nodded. “Mr Weasley, your detentions will be continued next week. Get Miss Potter to her common room. I trust you know where it is.”

George rose up and walked out with Potter and Snape, who locked the classroom behind them and took off.

“Come on, then,” George said, “best get you to your common room.”

“I saw it,” she said, holding one of his hands hard enough to squeeze bones together. For a first year she had a firm grip. “I _heard_ it. It didn't sound right, when she landed.”

“Did she live?”

Potter nodded, wiping her face with her sleeve. “Well, she was alive when I left. One of the older students cast some healing spells on her.”

She tugged at him to make him go in the right direction. To be honest he had never been to Slytherin's common room.

Once by what he assumed was the entrance she made some hissing sound George knew he would never be able to replicate. He thought it was an odd password, but perhaps an effective one. Either that or the little snake could speak Parseltongue.

He walked in with her, but only because she refused to let go of his hand. The room was full of Slytherins whispering to each other.

“I'd better get back to my own common room,” George said. “Will you be alright?”

Potter nodded.

“Sure?”

He certainly wasn't leaving her in the snake pit alone if she felt she couldn't trust anyone.

“Oh, Potter. There you are,” the Head Girl said. “I don't think your dorm mates are in yet, why don't you sit with Mr Bletchley?”

Mary gave him a hug and then went to sit with the Quidditch team.

“Mr Weasley, I trust you can find your way back to Gryffindor,” the Head Girl said. She handed him a note, a pass for being out after curfew. “All students have been told to go to their dormitories. Do not get lost on the way. You will not enjoy the consequences this time.”

 

* * *

 

“As you have likely heard, one of the students jumped off the Astronomy Tower,” Minerva told the gathered Gryffindors. The common room was packed, and most of the girls were crying. “She is alive thanks to the quick thinking of two Hufflepuffs, but hanging on by a thread. Madam Pomfrey has two healers from St Mungos working on her.”

There was a sniffle from one of the girls who had cried the hardest when George had arrived.

“We don't know what happened before, and I advise you not to spread rumors. There will be an investigation”

“Why did you send for Professor Snape?” George asked.

“As a Potions Master he has had some training in medicine, Mr Weasley.” Minerva looked about ready to cry herself. “I am afraid everyone is confined to the common rooms for the time being. Classes will be held as usual, but outside of classes and meals you will not be allowed to roam freely.”

“I can't say I'm surprised,” a girl in seventh year said. “We all know Ravenclaw is the worst House when it comes to bullying.”

“Professor Flitwick is a great teacher, sure, but he leaves his House to do as they please. How many students have been moved to Hufflepuff or Slytherin the last five years alone?” another girl said.

Minerva seemed reluctant to chime in.

“How would moving someone to Slytherin help? They'll just turn evil,” Neville spoke up.

“That's not true, Mr Longbottom,” Minerva said sharply. “Slytherin is no more evil than Gryffindor is. When it comes to bullying I have to say Professor Snape has been very proactive in his work. There has been a very different atmosphere in Slytherin since he started as their Head of House. When your parents studied here at Hogwarts there was an all out war between Slytherin and Gryffindor. This is no longer the case. I will advise you to stop spreading outdated propaganda.”

“Will we eat here?” someone asked.

“Yes.”

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

“Enough is enough, Filius!” Pomona said.

“You will need to deal with the bullying,” Minerva said.

“A little bullying is a part of childhood,” Filius defended.

“We are past the stage where it can be called _a little_ ,” Pomona said. “A girl tried to kill herself!”

Severus had thus far kept quiet. Minerva and Pomona were both full of righteous anger and he allowed them to vent. He wanted to go back to Slytherin's common room and help his students, but he was stuck in yet another staff meeting about Ravenclaw.

The headmaster had conveniently enough excused himself to deal with the parents of the girl.

He idly wondered if he could brew a batch of Polyjuice Potion and pay one of his older students to attend staff meetings in his stead. That way, when there was a crisis he could spend time where he was actually needed. This bickering was doing nothing productive.

“Shut up,” he growled.

To his eternal surprise the others did as he asked.

“Oh good, now that I have your attention, may I remind you all that we have done this before? And nothing came of it? No changes made whatsoever? What we need is a school-wide policy against bullies. Not victims, bullies. If someone is bullied we stop only looking at the victim and start looking at the damned bully. Yes, it's upsetting to see someone try to commit suicide, but why are we not talking about expelling the bullies? We _know their names_!”

Minerva looked shocked. “I don't think we should ruin their lives by -”

“Ruin _their_ lives? If they had raped her would you call her a slut to her face too? They have earned that punishment a thousand times over.”

“I agree with Severus,” Pomona said. “You don't get rid of weeds by removing the flowers.”

“Well -” Minerva hedged.

“Most of them are not even in your House, why do you have such a hard time dealing with this?” Severus asked. “If they had been in Slytherin you can bet they would have been gone by now.”

Minerva sagged down a little. “Alright, yes, I will handle it.”

 

* * *

 

By the time the staff meeting came to an end it was getting late, but even so Severus was not surprised to see his students staying up in the common room.

“One of the Ravenclaw students jumped off the Astronomy Tower. She is alive, but her condition is very serious. Madam Pomfrey has the help of healers from St Mungos. I advise you not to spread rumors, and instead bring relevant information to me. Classes and meals will be held as usual, but you will not be allowed outside the common rooms at other times until the investigation is complete.”

Severus looked over the students to make sure they listened to him.

“I want those of you in NEWT-level Potions to help me administer Calming Draughts and Dreamless Sleep among the students who need it. If you feel affected enough that you cannot do this in a professional capacity, I want you to refrain from doing it. Tomorrow we will brew potions both for Madam Pomfrey and for our own needs. We will see to our own House first, after that we will give to the other three.”

“Professor?”

“Yes.”

“How do we treat someone who tried to commit suicide? Assuming she'll return to classes?”

“Do not try to ignore it, but do not focus on what she did. Tell her you're happy she's still here. Ask her how you can help. Maybe walk her to classes, but make sure she wants you there. It's always tempting to try to be friendly to someone who feels sad, but if you do not intend to be her friend in the long run you might just end up hurting her. Often people who attempt suicide feel that they have no one truly trustworthy to turn to.”

“Do we get her gifts?”

“If she was willing to leave the physical world behind then trinkets will do nothing for her. A kind word will go a lot longer.”

 

* * *

 

It was nearly midnight when Severus and a small group of NEWT-level students arrived in Ravenclaw. They had been to Hufflepuff first, but Pomona had given them all tea with calming herbs. He really did like Pomona. It was a pity Hufflepuff had such a poor reputation because they were arguably the best House at Hogwarts.

Ravenclaw was a mess. There was a loud debate going on, everyone seemed to be in the common room. Some were crying, some were angry, and others were staring off into space.

“I want your attention for a few minutes;” Severus said.

It took a lot longer than he thought it should, but eventually the students settled.

“Has your Head of House informed you of the events?”

Nods. Good. At least he did not have to deal with that.

“It is late, you are all upset, and things will look clearer in the morning. We have brought Calming Draughts and Dreamless Sleep for the students who need it. These will be administered in appropriate doses. Those of you who can manage to sleep without it will be excused and will leave to go to bed. Now.”

“We have space in Slytherin, should any of you want to stay with us for a few days,” the Head Girl offered.

“Be advised though, that our House Rules applies to all students in our dorm,” the Head Boy filled in.

Severus nodded and oversaw the procedure. Depending on how much they had left of the stock they would have to walk up to Gryffindor next.

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

Mary had expected to feel more after seeing a girl get smashed against the ground, but she had lived and Mary hadn't known her. Since she had seen – and worse, heard – it happen she was ordered to speak to one of the healers who had arrived from a wizarding hospital.

They were in an unused office that had hastily been decorated. There was a potted plant that moved its flowering stems about.

“I don't really feel bad,” she said. “I did when it happened, but now it's alright.”

“How did you feel when it happened?” the woman asked.

“Shocked, upset, I cried.” Mary sighed. “Just, now that it's been a day it's better. She lived, and she's getting help.”

“It is upsetting to see something like that, even if you did not know the person. It can make you think about death, or about relatives, and it can make you worry over those who seem sad a lot.”

“I just... I guess I want to learn a spell that would float people,” Mary said. “Like, I want to help the next one, you know?”

“I doubt you could make someone heavier than a toddler float at your age,” the healer said. “What you can do is be nice to your classmates so that no one feels the need to jump. Most of the time people who try to commit suicide feel they have no one who they can turn to.”

Mary nodded, because she knew that feeling, in a way. Not enough to want to die, but she knew it all the same.

 

* * *

 

When she was done speaking to the healer Severus sat her down in his office and gave her a cup of tea.

“You don't have to talk to me too, unless you want to,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you are doing alright.”

She shrugged. “It was worse when it happened, but now it's... it's like when you get hurt. You get upset and cry but then once it's better you sort of settle.”

“That's good. How are things otherwise? You seem to be adjusting better than I hoped.”

“I like it here,” Mary said.

“How do you like Quidditch?”

“It's fun, and I like practice too. And flying. And it's nice that the older boys let me be with them. Older kids sometimes get weird about letting younger ones join them. I thought Marcus was kind of scary at first, but he's nice enough.”

“You seem to get along better with older students.”

Mary shrugged and drank some of her tea. “It's usually easier with older kids. They have better social skills.”

 

* * *

 

Mary took a walk around the outer perimeter of the grounds. She had originally just wanted a walk to clear her head after all the talking about emotions she had done, but it had evolved into a search for a way to get off the grounds. There wasn't one. The main gate was locked tight and too high to climb and if there was no physical wall or gate, the perimeter was somehow magically sealed off.

“Hi!”

Mary turned to the sound of a voice. “Hello?”

“I'm Mandy, Mandy Brocklehurst. Um, Ravenclaw first year.” The girl was pale and freckled, with auburn hair and amber eyes. She looked a bit chubby, but not fat. Her hair was in a ponytail and looked messy, something Mary could sympathize with. Her own hair was dreadful unless she spent a long time on it – or Rosalie helped.

“Mary Potter.”

Mandy nodded. “I was actually looking for you. I've been meaning to for a while, but... Well, I guess I just never found you alone before. Um, see I was hoping we could study together?”

 

Mary shrugged. “Okay.”

“We could meet in the library?” Mandy said with more hope in her voice when she wasn't outright rejected.

“Sure. Do you want to walk with me?” The other girl clearly wanted to be friends of some sort.

“Sure!” Mandy said.

They walked in silence until dinner, when they walked to the Great Hall together. Mary wondered quietly to herself if Mandy would be one of those friends who really cared or one of those who just wanted any friend and wasn't picky about who.

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

The amount of sugary sweets available during dinner at All Hallow's Eve was extensive. The older students weren't too excited, but most of the first years were stuffing their faces so fast Mary wondered if they had never seen candy before. Draco exchanged a look of amusement with her while they sedately ate their dinner, which consisted of actual food and not sweets. He was acting like a miniature adult much of the time, especially at meals and when around older students.

Lime was on the floor, chasing a charmed candy spider that Miles had enchanted and dropped for him. He seemed to have no interest at all in eating the thing, just played with it and stalked it.

Ronald Weasley came running in, screaming for Madam Pomfrey. Behind him Neville was helping a badly limping Percy, attempting hold him up. Neville visibly struggled under Percy's weight.

“What happened?” Minerva demanded, running toward Percy along with the healer.

“Ron and Neville... found them where they shouldn't be! Found a Cerberus!” Percy nearly yelled. He looked frightened and pale, and there was blood on his clothes. “It's loose in the castle!”

“We think it ran for the dungeons,” Neville supplied. “Took off when Peeves made a racket.”

Many of the students panicked. Mary didn't know what a it was, exactly, so she didn't worry. A lot of her housemates were prone to drama. It might be something half the gathered students could kill with a flick of their wands.

The Headmaster called for silence and then told the Prefects to lead everyone to their common rooms, while Percy was ordered to the hospital wing. Mary pocketed a few treats from the table, realizing they weren't likely to return. Lime abandoned his toy and came to her before she even called him.

“But we're housed in the dungeons!” Marcus Flint yelled.

As per usual however, not one of the staff other than their own Head of House paid Slytherin any heed. Severus broke away from the other teachers and walked to them. “I am aware of this, Mr Flint. Come on, follow behind me. _Nobody_ break away and try to be a hero,” he said. “First years in the middle, seventh years take up the rear.”

“What do we do if we encounter it?” Marcus asked quietly as they moved through the hallways.

“You will do _nothing_ , Mr Flint. Leave it to me and the older students,” Severus said sternly. “Now be quiet, all of you.”

Marcus nodded reluctant assent. They were all quiet while they walked after that.

When they were safely in the Slytherin Dungeon they gathered in their common room. It was eerie, like the whole school was holding its breath. Severus left as soon as he had counted all heads to make sure they were all there.

One of the prefects summoned a curious-looking creature and asked it to bring food.

“What was _that_?” Mary asked.

“A house elf, Potter,” Draco said nonchalantly. “They're servants. Mother says that as long as you're reasonably nice to them they will do anything for you.”

Food, dessert and sweets from the Great Hall appeared on the tables in the common room. There weren't enough chairs, but the seventh years sat down in the couches once they had filled their plates.

Mary and Draco ended up sitting with Miles and an older girl Mary didn't know very well. The only things she did know was that the girl was Draco's older cousin Lenora Lestrange. She had a habit of throwing hexes at Draco for fun, but Draco gave as good as he got usually.

“How does a... whatever it was... get into Hogwarts in the first place? I noticed the gates are locked, and there's a magic barrier, so how would it get inside?” Mary asked.

“Someone must have let it in,” Miles mused. “Did you try to sneak out?”

“Might've. Like Professor Squirrel?”

“Maybe. He might have brought it to use it in class. It's an odd thing to use though.”

“Don't you know what a Cerberus is?” Draco asked.

“No?”

Lenora sucked on her fork. “Basically a big dog with more than one head. The teachers will be able to deal with it.”

“Does anyone celebrate non-Christian holidays here?” Mary asked.

“The traditional folks like myself do,” a fifth year said. “We do it on the down low, the Headmaster is not very fond of it. Would you like to learn about it?”

“As long as I don't have to sell my soul.”

“That's really just Christian nonsense. Most of it is about meditating and feeling the flow of magic, being in tune with your surroundings and such.”

“My parents tend to stick to the old ways. Mother took me to a Sabbath in Ireland,” Lenora said. “It was _wicked_.”

The fifth year nodded. “Ireland has the best celebrations on the isles, though Germany is by far the most traditional. I'm Felicia Brunt, by the way.”

“Mary Potter,” Mary said.

“Oh, you're the prodigy?”

“Mostly I'm just Mary,” she grinned sheepishly.

“We have a bit of a standing gathering each Saturday evening in the Forbidden Forest. I'll take you next time and you can see if you like it. Otherwise it might just be fun to see what happens.”

“Isn't the Forbidden Forest, you know, forbidden?” Draco asked.

“Scaredy mouse,” Lenora singsonged.

Felicia chuckled. “All of the forest isn't forbidden. Parts of it are open to students. Besides, the reason it is forbidden is because of the inhabitants. If you can hold your own against them, you're good.”

“I went a few times,” Lenora said. “It's alright. I just don't have the head for sitting still and meditating.”

Lime meowed and pawed at Marcus until he was fed a piece of meat.

“Did you guys all know McGonagall is an animagus?” Marcus asked. “She can turn herself into a cat. Now, back in first year I did not know this, so when I found a cat on the grounds I started petting it, and then it turned into my least favorite teacher. It was shocking. But you know, life goes on. In second year I saw her in cat form again, so I picked her up and carried her with me and asked everyone if they wanted to pet the cat.”

“Truth,” one of the seventh years said.

“She was furious, but she couldn't do anything about it,” Marcus grinned. “It pays off to be academically challenged, people think you have no brain at all most of the time.”

“Aren't you banned from her classes?” Miles asked.

“Yes. I asked if she had an inappropriate relationship with Mrs Norris.”

“So it had nothing to do with asking ' _What's new, pussycat_ ' every time you met her in the hallway for a solid year?”

“I thought it was funny,” Marcus sniggered.

“You lost us two hundred points that year, we had to scramble like mad to get ahead of Gryffindor.”

“Is there a list on what earns you points?” Pansy asked.

“Not really. Good behavior and academic achievements are always safe bets,” Gemma said. “They tell us prefects to look for students who make a little extra effort, or help their peers. There's a list in the staff room with who earned how many points.”

 

 


End file.
